


New Hopes

by lionleonora



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, M/M, Reddie, Star Wars AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28671474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionleonora/pseuds/lionleonora
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is finally leaving Tatooine; he’s lived there all his life, and he is done. He manages to convince a crew of bounty hunters to take him off-world, and becomes drawn to Richie Tozier, who’s very annoying and not funny at all—but kind and always in Eddie’s corner. He feels almost familiar, as if Eddie has met him and the crew before... and why is the Empire suddenly after the crew?Or: Reddie Star Wars AU!(Only general knowledge of the original trilogy necessary to read this!)
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh (background), Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon (Background), Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note—I don’t have much knowledge of the Star Wars universe, only general knowledge. This is very much me fulfilling my Reddie fantasy in a Star Wars setting, not the other way around. Only very general knowledge of the original trilogy (Luke Skywalker stuff) is necessary to read this!

Eddie Kaspbrak sits at the weird, semicircle table, staring into his weird drink and hating everything. 

The Mos Eisley cantina is uncomfortably hot and stuffy, just like every other building on this planet. The drink in Eddie’s cup sort of looks like milk, but it’s also bubbly and blue and Eddie really regrets buying anything at all at this point. The bartender had looked really intimidating, though, and Eddie was worried they would kick him out if he didn’t buy anything, so. Here he is. 

The cantina is also mostly empty, which means it’s not as stuffy as it  _ could  _ be, and also that Eddie doesn’t have to pretend to not be weirded out by being around other people. He spends most of his time around droids. Eddie likes droids; they usually don’t try to talk to you, and even if they do, they’re really more motivated by a goal than social interaction. A lot of things make Eddie nervous, but social interaction is definitely in the top three. 

But Eddie needs to start talking to people if he wants to leave all that behind (and boy, does he). If he just sits in this dark bar for the rest of the afternoon Myra  _ will  _ eventually find him, bring him back home, and everything will just be like how it was before. He can’t go back to that—he’s got to do something, he has to change his life, or he’ll go crazy. 

There’s a sudden commotion by the door; Eddie turns in his weird, uncomfortable chair. Three people walk in, laughing. 

The first is a man a little shorter than he, with pale, graying hair and smile lines around his eyes. He’s light-skinned and human, as far as Eddie can tell; he wears loose, plain clothes, and there’s a blaster hanging at his belt.

The second man is the tallest, much taller than Eddie and therefore even taller than the man on his left. He’s also human, dark-skinned, and wearing similarly inconspicuous clothes. There’s a blaster at his side, as well. He is laughing uproariously; there’s an unbridled joy in his guffaws that lifts Eddie’s spirits. He hasn’t been around anyone that happy in… forever, really.

It seems that the man on the tall guy’s right is the cause of this. Also human, light-skinned, and grinning widely as he watches the other two men laugh. There’s a happy, mischievous spark in his eye; he’s taller than Eddie is, but not as tall as the man in the middle. He’s got shaggy brown hair that stops at the base of his neck, thick black glasses, and broad shoulders. He, too, wears a blaster, and is the only one of the group that wears armor—across his chest, nowhere else on his body. 

The three sit down on the opposite side of the bar, still laughing and talking while Eddie watches them creepily.  _ Don’t be weird,  _ Eddie thinks, looking back down at his drink and hoping they won’t notice him. They don’t; the short guy orders a drink, and then they continue to talk to each other. Eddie eavesdrops, like a coward. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything, Richie?” asks the tall guy while the short guy takes his drink, nodding at the bartender. “Usually you go for a drink.” The guy with the glasses snorts and shakes his head. 

“I lived on Tatooine for a while,” he says, “and trust me when I say that everything here sucks. This is like, categorically the worst planet. I’m not gonna drink their shitty alcohol.” The short guy looks nervously at the bartender.

“Maybe your anti-Tatooine tendencies can wait until we’re off-planet?” he says. 

“Or you could quiet down,” suggests the tall guy. Richie gasps and presses a hand to his chest.

“Me?” he says loudly. “ _ Quiet down? _ ” 

“Alright, alright,” says the tall guy, grinning. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“Mikey, Mikey, Mikey,” Richie says mournfully, shaking his head. “It’s like you don’t even know me.” 

“I’m kind of with Richie on this one, though,” says the short guy. “I’m ready to get out of here. That last job wasn’t great.”  _ Bounty hunters,  _ Eddie thinks. The shorter man takes a sip of his drink and makes a face. “And neither is this drink.”

“I told you!” Richie says triumphantly as the two other men shush him. “I know my drinks, at least. It’s like you don’t even listen to me.”

“Bill, do you hear something?” asks Mikey—or Mike, maybe. Richie seems like the kind of person to give others annoying nicknames. Bill frowns thoughtfully and shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think I do,” he says. 

“Oh, haha,” grumbles Richie. “I hate this planet.” 

“Cheer up, Richie,” says Mike. “Stan said the next job is somewhere nice, right?” Bill nods.

“Big fields, open sky, no people…” 

“Like a farm?” Richie asks, wrinkling his nose. Mike shrugs.

“I like farms,” he says. Richie sighs.

“You know what, whatever,” he says. “Anywhere that’s not here.”

“I didn’t know you’d lived on Tatooine, Richie,” Bill says curiously, leaning over the table. “You’ve never talked about it.”

“You’ve been here three days, you’ve seen all there is to talk about: nothing. There’s nothing you can do here, and the places that aren’t crawling with stormtroopers are just—sand! I’d literally rather die than live here for the rest of my life.” The rant seems to have been intended to be jokey, but comes out a bit viciously, and Bill looks at Mike with furrowed brows. Mike shrugs a little, and Bill glances at Richie before going back to his drink. It’s quiet and a little awkward. 

The thing is, Richie’s right. Tatooine really is the bottom of the barrel when it comes to picking a place to settle down. It’s not like Eddie’s in constant fear for his life, but that danger is certainly present, and with miles of desert around you, it’s kind of hard to think about anything else. Even without the threat of stormtroopers, it’s really fucking hard to survive in a desert. Eddie’s not quite at the place Richie seems to be, where no life at all is better than life on Tatooine, but he inches a little closer every day he spends here. It’s this rather depressing thought that spurs him into action. He takes a deep, fortifying breath, tightens his grip on his cup, and looks across the bar.

“You guys are going off-planet?”

The three look up at him, surprised. Even though Eddie’s right in their eye line, they never even registered he was there—not because he’s so unremarkable that he’s invisible (well, maybe it’s a little that) but because they’re so engrossed in each other. There’s an ache in Eddie’s chest suddenly, a desire for friends like that; friends that could make the world around you just disappear. He shakes the feeling away. Not the time. 

“Uh… yeah,” says Bill after a moment. “Yeah, we are. Why do you ask?” Eddie looks down at his drink.

“Would you… be willing to take me with you?” It’s quiet for a moment; Eddie looks up nervously, and sees that all three of them are looking at each other in confusion. Mike catches Eddie’s eye. 

“Anywhere you want to go in particular?” he asks slowly. Eddie exhales sharply through his nose.

“Anywhere,” he says. “Anywhere with civilization that’s not here. Preferably as far from here as I can get—but I’ll go anywhere. If you could just drop me off at whatever planet’s, like, on your way, that would be—that would be good.” Something changes in Bill’s eyes. He leans forward. 

“Are you being chased?” he asks in a low voice. 

“What?” says Eddie. “Oh. Oh! No, no that’s not it at all, that’s not what—”

“I told you, man, no one wants to live here.” Everyone turns to Richie, who in turn fixes Bill with a look. “There’s no plot or anything. He’s just a normal guy who wants to leave. Besides,” he adds, a bit meanly, “no one important has ever lived on Tatooine.” Everyone is looking at Eddie now.

“He’s kind of right,” Eddie says. “At the very least, he’s right about me. I just—I can’t live here anymore.” Bill looks at him carefully.

“You just want to leave?” he asks. “You’re sure there’s nothing else?” For a moment, Eddie sees Myra’s face, red with anger and dripping with sweat.  _ I can’t. They’ll never take me then.  _ He shakes his head and looks Bill directly in his eyes. 

“Nothing,” he says, and grips his knee under the table. Bill looks right back at him; his gaze seems to see everything Eddie’s trying to hide. After what feels like years, Bill sits back in his stool, apparently satisfied. 

“Alright,” he says, and it’s just one word, but with that, Mike and Richie’s demeanors relax a little. It’s clear that Bill is the leader here. 

“Well, not to be rude,” says Mike, “but, uh… is there anything you can offer us?”

“Huh?”

“You know, like…” Mike seems embarrassed. “Credits?” 

“Aw, Mike, come on,” says Richie. 

“It’s a fair question!” Mike blusters. “I mean, we have to eat too. We’ve got stuff to pay for.”

“He’s not even asking for that much, Mikey. He literally said,  _ take me anywhere,  _ I mean, come on. It’s not that hard. Didn’t we just get paid?” 

Bill remarks, “You usually jump at any opportunity for more credits, Richie,” and Richie says,

“Fuck you, man, he just wants to leave!” 

“I can work,” Eddie says loudly. Everyone turns to him once again. He swallows uncomfortably—he hates that they’re all looking at him—and says, “I don’t have any credits. I’m a moisture farmer. I’m a moisture farmer and I live on a desert planet—I barely make enough for myself each year. I can’t give you any money. But I can work.” He pauses uncertainly, in case anyone wants to jump in. No one says anything, so he keeps going. “I work with droids a lot, and I’m pretty good at fixing them. There’s also lots of machines and stuff on the farm, too, so… if there’s anything broken on your ship, I can probably fix it. I know that’s not a lot, but it’s all I can offer you.” The three men look at each other. 

“Ben usually fixes everything on the ship,” says Bill quietly. Eddie gets the feeling he’s not supposed to be listening, but where is he supposed to go? He listens anyway, trying to be subtle. “We don’t really have anything that he can fix.”

“And we also have to do our next job before we go anywhere else,” murmurs Mike. “It’s a pretty planet, but no one lives there. Carnivorous animals.” 

“He can just stay on the ship,” Richie whispers (somehow, even though he’s trying to be quiet, he manages to be louder than everybody else. Eddie can’t decide if it’s funny or annoying).

“And do what?” asks Bill. “Fiddle with the engine? Stan hates babysitting.” They’re all quiet for a moment, thinking, and in that moment Richie’s eyes suddenly flick to Eddie’s. Eddie flushes quickly looks into his drink, embarrassed. _You’re so fucking rude,_ he thinks, mentally hitting himself in the head. He can still feel Richie’s eyes on him and stubbornly avoids his gaze.   
“We’ve still got that droid,” says Richie suddenly. Bill looks up at him.

“What?” he says. “The little one? It doesn’t do anything.”

“Not  _ now _ , it doesn’t,” says Richie. “Mike, didn’t it used to do like, navigation stuff? It’d like, go on missions with you and shit and report back.”

“I mean… yeah,” says Mike slowly. “But it hasn’t worked in years. I’ve honestly only kept it around cause Ben thought he could use it for parts.” Mike looks at Eddie. “Do you…think you can fix it? Does that sound like something you could do?” Eddie straightens up.

“I’d have to see it first,” he says, “but yeah, that doesn’t sound too complicated. I can probably do it.”  _ Sound more confident,  _ he thinks, and repeats, “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” Mike looks at Bill, who shrugs a little. 

“Okay,” says Mike. “Well then, we’ll take you. Glad to have you aboard.” He smiles at Eddie, a real genuine smile, and Eddie feels a huge sense of relief. 

“Thank you,” he says in a rush of breath. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me. Well, maybe you do,” he says, nodding at Richie, who grins at him. 

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t gonna leave you on this trash dump,” he says. “Especially not someone as cute as you.” Bill rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink while Eddie blusters “I—what—I—” and blushes, again. This only makes Richie’s grin grow wider. “What’s your name, cutie?” he asks. 

“Eddie,” says Eddie, glaring at Richie. “Eddie Kaspbrak.” He takes an angry swig of his drink and regrets it immediately, making a face which Richie lets out on, sharp laugh at. _ Definitely annoying. _

“Well, Eddie,” cuts in Mike, trying to hide a smile, “I’m sure you heard us, but we’ve got a job on an uninhabited planet that we’ve got to do before we go anywhere else. You’d just have to stay on the ship with some of our crew for a day or two. Is that okay with you?”  
“As long as I don’t have to leave the ship, I’m good,” says Eddie. “When do we leave?” 

“Actually?” says Mike. “Right now. This was our last drink before we headed out. You’re pretty lucky you caught us.” As he speaks, Bill places a few credits at the bar and nods to the bartender while Richie stands up, stretching. “Are you good to go? Anything you need to grab before we leave?”

“No,” says Eddie firmly. “Nothing.” Mike seems surprised.

“You’re sure?” he says. “Nothing at all?” Eddie nods and Mike looks at him carefully for a moment, then smiles once more.

“Alright, then,” he says. “Let’s go.” 

  
  


“Here she is,” says Bill. “The  _ Silver _ .” 

“Wow,” says Eddie. He doesn’t know what else to say.

It’s a huge, silver light freighter—so aptly named, Bill—and it’s one of the oldest, ugliest ships Eddie’s ever seen. “Silver” is an exaggeration; it’s really more of a dark gray, especially with all of the dirt and wear covering its paint job (which looks like it was slapdash to begin with). If these guys are bounty hunters, then Eddie guesses it makes sense to have such a large ship, but even so, it seems a little unwieldy with how incredibly, ridiculously large it is, not to mention slow. Also, Eddie’s no expert, but he’s pretty sure this model is at least fifty years old, maybe more. Either way, Bill definitely wasn’t alive when they made this, and neither was Eddie. 

“She’s beautiful, huh,” says Bill wistfully, gazing at the ship lovingly. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Eddie reluctantly agrees, and Richie snorts from behind him. Eddie turns to glare at Richie, but when he turns back Bill is looking at him with puppy-dog eyes. “She just… doesn’t seem very fast,” Eddie says apologetically. 

“She flew the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs,” Bill mumbles, hanging his head a little. Eddie does a double take and squints at the ship again; maybe he’s looking at the wrong one. Richie full-on laughs this time, and Eddie glares at him once more.

“He doesn’t believe you, man,” Richie says through snorts. “No one believes you.”

“Aw, I believe you, Bill,” says Mike, patting Bill on the back. Bill looks up at him, gives a little laugh, and smiles. 

“Thanks, Mike,” he says. Mike smiles back at him, and they stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. Eddie looks incredulously at Richie (he’s got no one else to look at). Richie fake-gags himself, and Eddie rolls his eyes (but secretly agrees. Yuck). 

The main door of the ship opens suddenly with a hiss of air, opening downward and landing on the sand with a  _ pumf _ . Eddie doesn’t see anybody, but he hears a voice.

“You’re late,” it says, and the voice is pretty annoyed. 

“We missed you too, Stan!” Richie calls cheerfully. “And look!” He wraps a friendly arm around Eddie and squeezes him close to Richie. Eddie jolts a little. “We brought a new friend!” 

“What?” says the voice incredulously. A man’s head ducks down from the ship; he’s got dark, curly hair, and serious eyes. He squints out at Richie and the rest of them. Richie grins and waves back while Eddie smiles nervously. After a moment, the man (Stan, Eddie assumes) sighs sharply and gives Bill an aggravated, tired look. “You can’t keep bringing every lost puppy you find to the ship, Bill,” he says. 

“Hey!” say Bill and Eddie, then turn to each other and frown.

“And you need to stop encouraging him, you guys,” Stan continues, turning to Mike and Richie. Mike laughs sheepishly and Richie grins even more fiercely, if that’s possible.

“That’ll never happen, Stan the Man,” he says, releasing Eddie and walking up to the metal walkway. Bill and Mike follow, and as Richie enters the ship he claps Stan on the back and calls, “C’mon, Eddie! We’ll introduce you to the crew!” Eddie nods quickly and walks up to the walkway—but stops before he can put his feet on the metal. He looks up, past the ship and at the twin suns of Tatooine, so familiar and ever-present.  _ What am I thinking?  _ He thinks slowly, in horror.  _ This is crazy! I can’t just leave, without a plan! What am I— _

“Hey,” says Stan. Eddie looks up sharply, unceremoniously broken out of his thoughts. Stan’s looking at him blankly—tiredly, but blankly. “You coming?” he asks. Standing there, one foot extended towards the ship, and staring at Stan, who couldn’t care less about his inner turmoil, Eddie suddenly thinks,  _ Wait a minute. I hate those suns. There’s too many of them, and it’s too fucking hot.  _

“Yeah,” he says. He walks up the walkway and enters the ship. He nods at Stan a little awkwardly. “Sorry to make you wait.” Stan looks at him for a moment. His gaze is piercing behind his spectacles. 

“No problem,” he says, a little gently. He turns to a keypad by the door and presses a few buttons, closing the door with a hiss and a click. “We’re taking off soon, so I’m just doing it now,” he explains. “You’d better go find Richie. He’s really excited to introduce you. The main room’s just up the hall.”

“Thanks,” says Eddie, dazed. The inside of the ship is as old and worn as the outside, and badly designed, as well. So why does it feel so...scary? Eddie walks uncertainly through the wide, low-ceilinged hangar and turns down a narrow hall, which he can hear voices at the end of it, growing louder as he walks farther. He turns a corner and enters the main room. 

It’s fairly small, decorated with a hodgepodge of tastes in mind and consequently feeling lived-in. There’s an old chess table with flickering holograms still turned on (annoying) a worn, green couch (of  _ all  _ the colors), and random cups strewn about the area. A huge rifle hangs on one of the walls, which Eddie feels his eyes widen at and quickly looks away from. There’s an open holographic display of what looks like a news article, but also, extremely oddly, a few piles of books—real, paper books. Eddie can’t remember the last time he’s seen one of those. There’s also a wrench and a few tools on the floor. Eddie stands awkwardly at the threshold of the room, taking this in; then he lifts his gaze upwards, to the people at the end of the room. Richie catches sight of him out of the corner of his eye and yells, “Hey, Eddie!” All at once, everybody turns to look at Eddie, and Eddie immediately feels hot and uncomfortable. Richie makes his way around a technical station, grinning, and twirls to look at the group. “Dipshits,” he says grandly, “This is Eddie Kaspbrak.” Eddie nods a little.

“Uh, hey,” he says hoarsely. Everyone nods back, and a few of them smile. It’s five men and one woman. They’re all human, and all seem to be around Eddie’s age—maybe even exactly Eddie’s age. This makes him no less nervous.

“Eddie is going to be with us until the end of our next mission on—whatsit? Baron? Baroons?”

“Barins,” a tall man supplies helpfully. 

“Barins!” says Richie, snapping his fingers. “Thank you, Ben. And, Eddie is also going to fix that broken droid that’s supposed to do useful stuff, so that’s cool too! Everybody be nice to him.”

“Whoa,” says the tall guy, looking at Eddie. “Are you really?” Eddie shrugs uncomfortably.

“I’m going try,” he says. 

“Anyway!” Richie interrupts (not that Eddie was going to say anything important). “Now that I’ve introduced Eddie, it goes the other way around. Eddie, meet the worst crew in the world.” 

“Hey!” says Bill, and Richie grins.

“You know Bill already,” he says, “and Mike.” Mike waves. “I’m Richie, or Trashmouth, if you hate me, which you will. Tall, dark and handsome over there is Ben—“

“Dark?” asks Ben quietly. The woman next to him shrugs and Ben frowns, pulling a strand of his hair down in front of his eyes.

“—just work with me, Ben, you’re at least two out of three. The fashionable redhead is Beverly, and she may look beautiful and kind, but she is the worst person in the world and incredibly mean to me, all the time.”

“Only when you deserve it,” says Beverly sweetly.

“Bev Gets Off A Good One!” Richie crows. Eddie can somehow  _ hear  _ the capital letters. He doesn’t even know how that’s possible. “Finally, we have Stanley, right behind you!” Eddie turns to the left and jolts; Stan’s somehow made his way behind Eddie without a sound, and is now distractedly scrolling through the open article. “Probably wants to murder all of us, but especially me. He could do it, too—look at how he snuck up on you.”

“Fuck you, Richie,” Stan says off-handedly. 

“Not right now, Stan, I’m doing something.” A snort escapes Eddie, unbidden, and his eyes widen as quickly as he clamps his mouth shut. Stan looks up at him boredly before going back to his article. Face burning, Eddie turns to Richie, who’s grinning like a maniac. The crew behind him is also hiding smiles, fairly unsuccessfully.

“Anyway,” Richie says. “I guess I didn’t really have to introduce everybody to you, but I haven’t insulted everybody in—“ he checks an empty wrist— “thirty minutes, so it was high time. Plus, I’m not gonna know you for very long, so I have to annoy you now as much as possible.”

“For now, though, we’re actually gonna take off,” cuts in Mike. “Everybody’s got everything they need from here?” Everyone nods—Mike looks at Eddie, and he quickly nods too. “Great,” says Mike. “Bill and I will be in the cockpit. We’ll let you know when we go to hyperspace. Good to have you, Eddie.” Bill follows Mike down another hall with a wave to Eddie. Beverly says,

“It was nice to meet you, Eddie,” and goes down another hall with Ben. Stan checks his watch and says, 

“Richie, can you come with me for a second?” 

“Sure, Stan,” says Richie, following Stan as he gets up and makes his way back to the hangar. Eddie is alone. He slowly, unsteadily makes his way over to the chess table and sits down on the couch, gripping the table with white fingers. Somewhere below him, the engine rumbles to a start. 

_ I’m doing the right thing _ , Eddie thinks as the engine thrums beneath him.  _ I’m doing the right thing, I know I am, so I shouldn’t be scared. Stop being scared. Please, stop being scared.  _ There’s a sort of low whine that begins to emanate from the ship, and for a moment, Eddie’s sent back to his days when he thought he was going to be a pilot. Well, he never thought he was going to be a pilot—he knew even then that his mother would never let him. But he had desperately wanted to, and convinced an old pilot in the area to teach him to fly. It had gone alright for awhile, until his mother had found the helmet the pilot had given him stuffed in a bag behind his bed. She’d yelled horrifying stories of pilots crashing in the mountains at him, then cried and wailed that Eddie didn’t love her. Eddie had brought the helmet back to the pilot the next day and told him he didn’t want to fly anymore. He hadn’t stepped in a ship since. 

The ship lurches into the air all of a sudden. Eddie gasps and rocks forward, gripping his chair even tighter. How had he ever done this of his own volition? He must have been crazy. He screws his eyes shut and focuses on the feel of the couch under him while the ship speeds through the air, rocking and shaking. It smoothes out after a minute, but Eddie still feels as if he can feel the ship moving under him, speeding through the sky. Suddenly, he hears someone slide into the booth.

“So how do you like it?”

Eddie opens his eyes, confused. Richie is sitting next to him, unbothered by the movement of the ship. (And why wouldn’t he be.) Eddie frowns.

“What?” he asks. 

“The ship.” Richie gestures grandly at the room around them. “How do you like it?”

“Oh,” says Eddie. “The ship.” He looks around at the old, rusting metal, exposed pipes and flickering lights. “It’s, uh, nice,” he says. He turns to Richie, who’s stone faced for a moment—then a grin slowly spreads over his face. 

“You hate it,” he says. 

“What? No—no I don’t!” Eddie blusters. “I just said that I liked it! Didn’t I just say that?”

“Yeah, but you lied,” says Richie, his eyes alight with humor. “You’re really bad at lying, dude. It’s like you don’t even try.”

“Hey, fuck you, I’m great at lying!” Richie grins widely, and Eddie realizes what he’s just said. “Oh. Fuck.” 

“Look, dude, I’m not gonna be mad,” says Richie good-naturedly. “I’d rather hear why you hate it than hear you lie.” 

“...really?” says Eddie suspiciously. Richie nods eagerly.

“It’s gonna be so funny,” he says earnestly. Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” he says. “You wanna know what I really think of the ship? It sucks. It’s the worst ship I’ve ever seen, and yeah, I haven’t been in that many ships, but this will probably be the worst ship I  _ ever _ walk in. It’s old, it’s cruddy, it’s  _ really  _ loud—you leave this stupid chess board on—” Eddie hits the side of the thing, and the holograms on it flicker a little. 

“It’s broken, buddy.”  
“It’s broken!” Eddie yells. “You keep a broken chess board on your ship. I bet it hasn’t even occurred to you to throw it out. Your couch is old, that one pipe over there keeps hissing and that _has_ to mean that _something’s_ broken, and there’s—there’s—” Eddie looks around the room in a frenzy for something else to rage about, and his gaze falls on the cushion next to him. “There’s these weird books!” He picks up the first book, the title of which is in a language he can’t read. “What is this?” He turns to Richie, incensed. “Why are they paper? Do you _read_ this?” 

Richie’s face is red from the effort of not laughing, and he’s biting his lip hard, his shoulders shaking. 

“What?” yells Eddie. Richie gives in and bursts into laughter, bending over as he lets out sounds like a dying donkey. 

“Oh man,” he manages through giggles, wiping tears from his eyes.”I just love you, man. I wish we could keep you around forever.” And Eddie shouldn’t feel pleased about that, he really shouldn’t. Richie’s  _ laughing  _ at him. _ But he’s not, really _ , a little voice in his head whispers.  _ He’s laughing with you. He _ likes  _ you.  _ And, even more quietly,  _ She was wrong. _ Eddie fights to keep frowning and glares at the book.

“It’s just so fucking  _ weird! _ ” he yells, and Richie falls into laughter all over again. Watching him, Eddie starts to giggle a little, too. Richie’s eyes widen and he points at Eddie through snorts, and Eddie hides his face behind the book, still laughing. Eventually, their hysterics peter out, and they smile at each other. 

“It’s Mike’s book,” says Richie after a moment. “He’s a nerd. Would be a librarian if he wasn’t running with us.” 

“Is Mike… the captain?” Eddie asks hesitantly. “I always thought the pilot was the captain of a crew, but…”

“Yeah, we don’t really have cut-and-dry roles,” explains Richie. “None of us really fit into anything specific, and there’s no point in trying to fit ourselves into that kind of box.” Eddie nods.

“Since you’re bounty hunters,” he says, and Richie nods back at him. Suddenly, an alarming thought occurs to Eddie. “Do you guys… work for the Guild?” Richie blanches.

“No, no way,” he says. “That’s, like, Empire guys, right? No way. We’re not like that.”

“Oh thank god,” says Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief. “I can’t believe I didn’t ask you that before, I’m so dumb.” There’s a pause, then Eddie says, “I have kind of a weird question.” Richie gives him a  _ go ahead _ gesture, so Eddie says, “Can I see your windows?” Richie frowns for a moment.

“Oh,” he says. “To see Tatooine?” Eddie nods a bit sheepishly, and Richie grins. “Come on,” he says, hopping up from the couch and extending a gallant arm. Eddie rolls his eyes again and walks around the other side of the chess table. 

They walk down the hall that Eddie had entered in, through the hangar, and down another hall. The ship is sort of circular, so Eddie thinks maybe they’re going around to the other side of the ship but avoiding the cockpit, but it turns out the next hall has a long window down the left side. Light reflecting off of Tatooine from its suns casts a pale glow on the hall. Eddie walks toward the window in awe.

“So?” says Richie from behind him as he gazes at the planet below. “Is it everything you imagined it would be?”

“Honestly?” says Eddie after a moment. “Yeah.” Richie lets out a soft laugh. 

“How so?” Eddie thinks quietly for a moment.

“I thought it might look smaller from a ship,” he answers softly. “Or more interesting, or just—different. But it doesn’t. It looks exactly how I imagined it would always look; it looks exactly like how it felt to live there. Just… the same, all around. No matter where you looked.” Richie is quiet. Eddie shakes head, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what I’m saying. That didn’t make any sense.”

“No, it does,” says Richie. He looks at Eddie, and there's a strange emotion in the corners of his mouth. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Eddie asks bluntly. Richie seems a little startled.

“Does it… bother you?” he asks uncertainly. 

“No, no,” says Eddie, shaking his head.”You just—don’t have to. I’m just some rando you picked up cause he said he’d fix your droid. You didn’t even have to talk to me. So why?” Richie looks out the window again. 

“I don’t know,” he says after a moment. “I mean… you heard me say I lived there for a little. I guess…” he laughs, a bit sadly. “I hated it there. It was one of the worst parts of my life. I was so alone, and I felt like everyone hated me—and it was Tatooine, so they kind of did, but it wasn’t personal. Everyone hated everyone. When I left, it was the greatest day of my life, and I just… I couldn’t leave someone else there. If they were like me. I would wanna… know shit about them. You know?” Eddie nods. He turns back to the window, looking at the brown expanse of Tatooine pulling slowly away from them. 

“How did you end up there?” he asks quietly. Richie opens his mouth—then keeps it open, and eventually closes it. When he does, he looks confused.

“I—I don’t really remember,” he says. He laughs again, softly. “Isn’t that kind of weird?” Eddie’s quiet as Richie looks down at his shoes, eyebrows furrowed. “I guess… I mean, I lived through the Empire. We all did. Do. I think I just blocked out a lot of it, ‘cause, well. It sucked. All I remember is that I was there. What about you?” he asks, turning to Eddie, who shrugs.

“I always lived there,” he said. “I left, once, I think, but I always went back. Had family there for a little bit. My mom. She’s dead now.”

“No one else?” Eddie thinks of Myra.

He says, “No one really cared about me there.” Richie’s silent for a moment.

“Well,” he says, “I haven’t really known you for that long, Eddie, but I think you’re pretty cool.” Eddie feels a pleasant warmth come to his cheeks. He smiles at Richie gratefully.

“Thanks,” he says. Then, after a moment, “I guess you’re okay, too.” Richie throws his head back with a laugh and claps him on the shoulder, grinning. 

“Thanks, buddy,” he says. “Eddie. Eds.”

“Eddie,” says Eddie firmly. “Just Eddie.” Richie looks at him like he’s bursting.

“Eddie Spaghetti,” he whispers. 

“You’re horrible, and I never wanted to be friends with you,” Eddie says.

“Eddie, you wanted to be friends?” exclaims a thrilled Richie.

“No, never! I just said that I didn’t!” 

“Aww, Eds, that’s so sweet—”

“Sorry to interrupt.” Eddie and Richie look at Beverly from where they’re pushing at each other’s faces. Contrary to what she’s just said, she does not look sorry at all—in fact, she’s got a smug grin on her face. Eddie steps very far away from Richie. “Mike just wanted you two to know that we’re about to go into hyperspace, so… say your last goodbyes, Eddie?” 

“Actually, I was wondering if I could—be in the cockpit when it happens?” Beverly seems surprised.

“Well, I don’t see why not,” she says. “Come on up.” 

Eddie follows her back through the hall, with Richie behind him. They enter the cockpit, and Mike, sitting in the front seat, turns to look at them. 

“Hey, Eddie, what’s up?” he says. Bill also turns to look. 

“Eddie wanted to see it,” explains Beverly.

“If that’s okay,” Eddie adds. 

“Of course,” Mike says. “First time?” Eddie nods and looks at the window nervously. “Don’t worry,” says Mike. “You’ll like it, I promise.” Eddie turns to look at Richie, who smiles quickly, but encouragingly. Eddie smiles uncertainly back, then turns back to Mike, and the window. Mike says, “Here we go!” and pulls a lever. 

The dark space, dotted with stars, suddenly blurs together in streaks of blue and white and the ship speeds forward into the tunnel of light. Eddie gasps softly as the distorted shadows streak over the ship. He leans forward without realizing, eyes on the window of the ship.

He feels free for the first time. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am definitely not an expert on Star Wars (or droids) so must of the technical stuff I talk about is a) pulled from Wookiepedia, b) explained for the benefit of those who are not familiar with Star Wars, and c) skippable. Also, the Silver is essentially the same build as the Millenium Falcon, so imagine it like that. Thanks for reading!

Eddie wakes to the sound of clinking armor.

He sits up with a small groan, rubbing his back and blinking the crust out of his eyes. The rusty metal pipes slowly come into focus as he comes to on the old, worn couch of the  _ Silver _ . 

“Hey, Eds!” says Richie cheerfully. Eddie looks over at the technical station, where Richie, Beverly, Bill, and Mike are putting on the metal armor Richie had been wearing at the bar in Tatooine.  _ Tatooine _ . Things are coming back to Eddie slowly, but surely, and Tatooine seems both a second ago and a million years away. Eddie jolts as Beverly pulls the heavy rifle off of the wall and cocks it loudly. She smiles, pleased. Yes, Tatooine is definitely very far away. Eddie looks back at Richie with a straight-mouthed expression, and Richie grins. “Sorry if we woke you up, buddy,” he says. “We’re just about to head out.”

“We landed?” Eddie says groggily. 

“A few hours ago,” says Mike. He’s already got a silver chest plate on, and he’s re-hooking his blaster onto his belt. “I want to warn you, this might be a long job, so you could be waiting around for a while.” 

“That’s alright,” says Eddie, throwing his legs over the side of the couch and yawning. “Gives me more time to work on the droid. Do you know where I can find Ben? Or—did he leave already.” 

“Oh no, he’s staying in the ship with you and Stan,” says Beverly. “He’s in the cargo bay. It’s just through the next room.” Eddie nods and stretches a little. Richie looks down at his blaster.

“Thanks,” Eddie says, getting up from the couch and walking around the chessboard (which he had managed to break enough the earlier night to turn the hologram pieces off). He makes his way past the technical station and stops in front of the door to the storage bay, which Richie is standing in front of.

“Hey, can I get by you?” he asks. Richie whips around, having apparently been deeply engrossed with his blaster.

“Oh, uh, yeah man, of course. Sorry, sorry.” Richie quickly scoots away from the door and looks determinedly at the gun. Eddie frowns a bit before walking through the doorway. He hopes he hasn’t offended Richie. He turns back slightly and sees Bill giving Richie a strange look. Richie continues to fiddle with his gun, like he‘s purposely ignoring Bill.  _ Weird _ , Eddie thinks. He turns forward again and makes his way to the cargo bay.

When he enters, Ben is at one of the walls, fiddling with a pad on the door. He looks up as Eddie steps in and smiles. 

“Hey, Eddie, right?” he says amiably, abandoning the pad and walking forward, hand outstretched. “I know we met last night, but I’m not too much of a fan of Richie’s introduction—though I guess that you could figure that out on your own. I’m Ben.”

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you,” says Eddie, reaching forward and shaking Ben’s hand. He realizes with a dull surprise that he’s never done that before. Ben’s hand feels warm and firm, and Eddie finds himself wondering what Richie’s hand would feel like.  _ Weird!  _ he thinks again, this time a bit more forcefully, and drops Ben’s palm. “I’m Eddie,” he says. “But I guess you already knew that.”

“No trouble,” says Ben cheerfully. The man’s like a ray of sunshine. “Nice to hear it again. I guess you’re here to look at the droid, right?”

“Uh, yep,” says Eddie. 

“Great, I was just looking for it. It’s just over here.” Ben walks over to a corner of the cargo bay, beckoning for Eddie to follow. Eddie complies, studying Ben’s features a little more closely; he hadn’t gotten a very good chance last night. Ben’s brown-haired with brown eyes to match and a nice, friendly smile. He’s fairly tall, and broad as well, but not fat. Ben kneels down in a dusty corner of the cargo bay, and with a grunt, picks up what Eddie presumes to be the droid. Ben’s strong, too, Eddie realizes, to be able to pick up a droid of that size. Ben brings it out into the middle of the cargo bay with some effort, places it down on the ground and wipes his forehead. “Phew!” he says, chuckling a little. “I’ll bring it into the repair bay for you later, but I need a break, first. And maybe your help when I bring the droid in.” He straightens up and says, “So what do you think?” 

Eddie has already knelt down, brushing off the dust from the droid and examining it with furrowed eyebrows. “Richie said that this went on missions with you guys,” he says. “Is that...true?” 

“Um, yeah,” says Ben, hooking his hands on his belt loops. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s a rollie,” says Eddie. And it is a rollie: a white, spherical droid with blue accents and a hemispheric head. The optics look intact, but empty of intelligence. “I haven’t seen one of these in a long time.” When Eddie looks up at Ben, he only sees confusion in his face. “Oh, sorry—a rollie is also called a BB unit, I think,” Eddie elaborates. “But the point is, this is an astromech droid, so it’s kind of weird that it went on missions with you.” Ben’s face is still apologetically blank. “Do you...work with droids a lot?” Eddie asks hesitantly. 

“You would think that, considering I’m basically the handyman around here,” Ben says sheepishly. “Yeah, I don’t. Sorry. I’m great at ships—building them, fixing them, even piloting them in a pinch, but I’ve never known anything about droids. No one on this ship does. That’s mostly why we never got the droid fixed; even if we had, we wouldn’t really know what to do with it. How to use it.”

“That makes sense,” Eddie says. “See, astromech droids are repair droids—they mostly deal with navigation or fix stuff on ships—and as far as I was aware, smaller ships. Like, starfighters would use these as copilots. I’ve never heard of an astromech assisting on missions… so I guess it makes sense that none of you really knew what you were doing when you started using it.” Eddie looks up from where he’s been fiddling with the antenna on the droid, embarrassed. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. That was rude.” Ben waved him away and kneels down next to him.

“As long as you can fix it, you can say anything you like to me. This droid would be really helpful on missions.”

“Do you know how it got damaged?” Eddie asks. Ben shakes his head.

“I can’t really say. So many things happened to it; we don’t really know what it was that did it in. It just stopped working one day. I would have taken it apart to figure out what had gone wrong, but I worried that I would just make it worse. But hey,” says Ben, turning to Eddie. “You know what you’re doing, so at the very least you can tell us what’s wrong with it.” Eddie laughs nervously and looks at the droid’s photoreceptors.

“Yeah,” he says. “I, uh… I’ve never actually done a job like this before. Like, actually fixed a droid for someone else. Usually it’s just me fiddling with droids on the farm, and sometimes they work. So, I guess, don’t get your hopes up, is what I’m saying.” Eddie keeps his eyes on the droid, his face burning.  _ Why are you talking. Stop talking. Do you  _ want  _ to get thrown off this ship?  _

“Well, to be honest with you, Eddie, I’m not that worried,” says Ben, breaking Eddie out of his self-sabotage spiral. “You just came in here and you already know more about droids than any of us on this ship. I know you’ll at least be able to tell us something. And even if you can’t—it’s alright. You tried, and that’s the best you can do, right?” He’s so fucking earnest he makes Eddie want to….cry, or something. Instead of doing that, Eddie just smiles at the droid.

“Thanks,” he says. “That’s...really nice of you.” He looks up at the door leading back to the repair bay, then at Ben. “Do you think you’re ready to lift again?” Ben laughs a little and stands up.

“As long as you help,” he says. “On three?” Eddie nods, standing up and wrapping his hands around the base of the droid. “One, two, three!” They lift up the droid, grunting, and carry it into the repair bay, Eddie looking behind himself and attempting not to bump into walls. They place it down gently and sigh, relieved, then jolt when a yell comes from the cargo bay.

“Hey, Eddie! Ben! Are you guys in here?” It’s Richie; Eddie rolls his eyes, and Ben grins at him. 

“We’re just in the repair bay!” he yells back. “Why?”

“We’re about to leave the ship!” yells Richie.”We thought it would be nice to let you know! Like considerate crewmates! Crewmates who would see off their other crewmates if the situation demanded! Which it has! In the past!” 

“Alright, alright, we’re coming,” shouts Ben, smiling fondly and making his way to the door. Eddie looks awkwardly at the droid, wondering if he should get started without Ben, when Ben says, “Hey, are you coming?” Eddie looks up, surprised.

“...do you think he meant me?” he asks hesitantly, and Ben chuckles. 

“Richie would probably pout the rest of the day if you didn’t come,” he says. “From what I heard about you from him last night, he’s taken a real liking to you.” Eddie feels a blush creeping into his cheeks and wills himself not to be embarrassed.

“Alright,” he says, vaguely pleased, but hopefully hiding it well (from Ben’s smile, he isn’t, but Eddie finds he doesn’t care). He wonders what Richie said about him as he and Ben exit the repair bay and make their way over to the crew. 

When they arrive, Stan’s standing at the door again, lowering the entry ramp and letting in the sun. It’s hot, but not blazingly hot like on Tatooine; it’s a comforting sort of warmth. Eddie can hear what he thinks are some sorts of bugs buzzing away in what is visible of the yellow-green grass. 

Bill and the crew are standing by the door, all suited up in armor and terrifying-looking weapons (well, they’re really just blasters, but they still look dangerous. Eddie’s only ever seen them in the hands of stormtroopers). Bill seems to be finishing up some sort of explanation, with the rest of the group nodding seriously. Then Richie catches sight of Eddie and yells, 

“Eddie!” raising his arms over his head and turning all attention to Eddie. The crew smiles (well, most of the crew smiles and Stan gives Eddie a vaguely friendly look) and Eddie gulps, giving an awkward wave.

“Hey, Ben’s here too,” chides Bev, punching Richie on the arm. “Don’t ignore him.” Bev smiles at Ben while Richie lets out a pitiful noise and rubs his arm. 

“Ben’s here all the time,” Richie says with a pout. “We only got to meet Eddie yesterday. I gotta appreciate him as much as I can.”

“I always knew you guys didn’t love me,” sighs Ben, and the group erupts into a chorus of mock-disappointed rebukes of Richie, who gasps and grabs Ben by the shoulders.

“I’ve always loved you, Haystack!” he says, affronted, and plants a messy, dramatic smooch onto Ben’s forehead. The crew groans and Stan rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling and shaking his head fondly. Ben pushes Richie away, laughing. Eddie, for his part, feels an odd pang of disappointment watching Richie be so close with everyone. He had thought maybe Richie… well, it seems silly now that he’s really trying to articulate it, but he had thought Richie liked him a little more—like maybe they could have been friends.  _ But I guess that’s just how he is with everyone _ , he thinks, watching the crew with a hopefully blank face. 

“Alright, alright,” says Bill, laughing. “We should really get going. Stan’s manning comms, as usual—“ Stan gives a short wave, “—but I doubt we’ll need to contact you. We should be back by sunset, but if not, we’ll let you know.” Ben frowns.

“Wait,” he says, “didn’t you say it might take three days earlier?” 

“Ah,” says Mike, “I’ll take this.” He pulls Ben aside and starts speaking lowly to him. Beverly and Bill turn back to the open ship door and begin talking with each other, most likely about the job. The whole atmosphere has quickly become very serious and solemn; Eddie looks nervously at Richie, who seems unbothered.

“Is—is everything going to be okay?” Eddie asks as Richie turns to him. “This seems a little dangerous.” Richie’s face splits into a wide grin.

“Aw, Eds, are you worried about me?”

“Wha—I mean, kind of!” Eddie blusters, feeling heat come to his cheeks. “You’re my ride!” Richie eyes widen and he laughs, snorting. 

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he says. “Listen, Eds—”

“Eddie.”

“—Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie glares at Richie, who ignores this. “You don’t have to worry. We do this stuff all the time, and we’ve done way more dangerous things than this in the past. This is actually a pretty easy job, all things considered. I promise we’ll be back by sunset, like Bill said, ready to fly you to wherever you want.” As Richie says this, Ben and Mike seem to come to some sort of understanding in the corner. They come back to the rest of the group, Bill looking expectantly at them. 

“You’re sure?” Eddie asks, turning back to Richie. Richie smiles at him—it has less bravado in it this time, and more kindness. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Eddie,” Richie says, looking Eddie in the eyes. After a moment, Eddie smiles too, looks down. Richie pats him on the shoulder, a bit awkwardly, but firmly. Then he releases him and goes to meet the rest of the group, which seems to be waiting for only Richie, to Eddie’s embarrassment. 

The group doesn't mention it, though. Bill just says, “We’re off, then,” and, smiling back at the remaining crew, the four make their way down the entry ramp and onto the planet’s surface. There's a low, mechanical sound; the entry ramp is closing back up. Richie glances back at the ship before the door closes. 

After a moment, Ben says, “Well, I guess we should get you back to that droid.” Eddie stares at the ship door.

“Do you ever go out with them?” he asks. Ben seems surprised. 

“Uh, yeah,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “Sometimes. They usually don’t need the engineer on jobs, though. Why?” Eddie shakes his head.

“Isn’t it terrifying?”

“Uh,” says Ben, a little awkwardly. He scratches the back of his head. “I guess. I mean, I don’t go on them very often, but—I mean, we avoid fighting as much as we can, if that’s what we’re asking.”

“No, I mean—” Eddie stops. He’s not sure what he means. Maybe it’s the thought of going to so many different planets, or maybe it’s meeting so many people. Maybe it  _ is _ what Ben was saying, the fear of fighting and death. “I guess I just don’t understand it,” he says. “It’s fine. Ignore me.” 

“Alright,” says Ben, still looking a bit awkward. He gestures forward, and the two start walking back to the repair bay. “I’d be happy to talk about the job, if that would give you peace of mind,” says Ben after a moment. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” says Eddie, feeling guilty. He hadn’t meant to make Ben feel uncomfortable. “That would be great.” They enter the repair bay and Eddie stands in front of the droid, staring at it. 

“Oh, let me get the tools,” Ben says, turning and beginning to press along the walls while Eddie watches, befuddled. “The job is pretty easy,” Ben explains a bit distractedly, stretching his arms out and pressing the walls some more. “Barins isn’t very heavily populated, but there are a few farms and a factory or two out there. One of the factories is having trouble getting water to its facilities, and it wants the team to check out the plumbing, see if it’s damaged.” Eddie jolts as Ben suddenly bangs on the wall with his fist. With a hiss, a cabinet door opens up from the wall. “Sorry,” Ben says, turning to Eddie. “It’s a little finicky.”

“So what if it’s broken?” asks Eddie, stepping up to the cabinet and reaching in. “The plumbing, I mean. Are you supposed to fix it, too?” 

“No, just check it out,” answers Ben as Eddie rummages through the tools. “The reason they hired us is because they’re afraid to go in alone. There are lots of carnivorous aliens there—”

“I’ve heard.”

“—yeah. So everyone working there is afraid to leave the facilities. That’s why there’s so few people on the planet, though I’ve heard rumors that the Empire is going to try to wipe out the aliens there, maybe put in facilities of their own.” Eddie rummages around some more, pulling out a few tools and thinking about what he wants to ask. It’s a stupid question—but, fuck it, he’s going to ask anyway. He’s not going to see these people ever again, anyway. (A pang of disappointment hits him again.  _ Get a life, _ Eddie thinks.)

“So… you guys have never…” Eddie stops rummaging and looks at Ben, who looks back curiously. “...killed anyone?” Ben’s eyes widen.

“Whoa, what? Where’s this coming from? Did it… seem like we had?” 

“No, no, no!” Eddie says quickly. “I just—I’ve never met any bounty hunters, and I assumed—” Ben shakes his head and sighs, looking concerned. After a pause laden with heaviness, he speaks again.

“Look, I won’t lie to you. Times are hard, the Empire is powerful, and we’ve certainly taken jobs where we’ve had to do...bad things. We always prioritize ourselves and the job over the others we meet, and that has caused divisions within the crew, sometimes. But we have never, and will never, take jobs where we are meant to kill people. We’re bounty hunters, not assassins.” Ben looks him in the eyes. “I think that’s how a lot of people feel nowadays.”

“That—that makes sense. I’m sorry,” says Eddie. “I shouldn’t have asked that. That’s your business.” 

“Yeah, but I...understand. If I were in your position, I would want to know, too.” Eddie looks at Ben gratefully.

“Thanks,” he says. Ben smiles at him.

“Of course. If you’ve got any more questions, just let me know, and I’ll help in any way I can.” 

“I will,” says Eddie, thinking that he will never ask anyone a question ever again. Ben waves and leaves the repair bay. Eddie looks at the droid and sighs. 

“At least I can’t offend you,” he says. He sits down and looks it in its photoreceptors. “Let’s open you up and see what we can find.”

  
  
  


“Wow,” says Stan. Eddie looks up from the droid to see Stan standing in the door of the repair bay. “You’ve been busy.” 

The droid’s spherical bottom and hemispheric top have been separated, and on the spherical bottom, many panels and plates have been opened and removed. Some exposed wires are fizzing and sparking occasionally, and parts of the droid have been popped out when they should be in line with the rest of the droid. Tools are scattered all over the repair bay, and Eddie realizes, to his dismay, that his hands are now grimy with sweat and oil. He grimaces at them and looks around for a towel or something.

“I’m just gonna work on it a little bit longer,” he says, moving a wrench to the side with an unpleasant metal screech. He’s sure he had a washcloth somewhere. “I think I’ve almost got it—I know just about everything that’s broken, and once I figure out all of it, I can actually fix the thing. It shouldn’t take long.” 

“You’ve been working for five hours,” Stan says. Eddie looks at him in surprise at his comment, and then at the washcloth he’s somehow magically produced and is offering Eddie. 

“Five hours?” Eddie asks disbelievingly as he reaches to take the cloth and wipe his face. “Thanks.” 

“We really appreciate this,” Stan says. “It’ll be really helpful.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

“But you should probably take a break.” Eddie looks at the disarray around him.

“Are you sure?” he asks. Stan makes a face.

“Pretty sure,” he says. A smile creeps up Eddie’s face and he turns, lest Stan think Eddie’s laughing at him.

“Alright, that’s fair,” Eddie says. “Let me just organize the tools, at least.” Stan nods.

“I’ll just be in the other room if you need me.” 

A few minutes later, Eddie emerges from the repair bay, holding the washcloth. Stan is sitting at the couch, reading through another article.

“Thanks,” Eddie says, handing him the cloth. Stan looks up at him and nods, taking it back. Eddie sits a little bit away from him on the couch. It’s awkward for a moment—or at least, it feels awkward to Eddie. Stan seems to be content reading his article, though Eddie can’t really get a read on him. After a moment, Eddie says, “So what do you usually do?” Stan looks up at him blankly. “You know, on the ship. To… uh…”

“Earn my keep?” Stan says drily. 

“...I guess that’s a way of saying it,” says Eddie, embarrassed. Stan smiles a little, like he’s laughing at Eddie; but again, Eddie can’t tell.

“I look for jobs for the crew,” Stan explains. “We’re not with the Guild, so finding jobs is a lot harder. I rarely leave the ship for missions, unless I’m looking to discuss a possible offer.” Eddie nods and Stan smiles again. “Not very exciting, but it works for me.” 

“If I worked on a bounty hunter’s ship, that’s probably the job I’d go for,” Eddie says honestly, and Stan laughs softly, still looking at what Eddie presumed to be an article, but now thinks must be another job offering. 

“I didn’t like you at first,” Stan says, catching Eddie off-guard. It’s quite the non-sequitur, and could be taken as rude, but Eddie finds himself listening closely. He likes Stan—there’s something very orderly and neat about him, matter-of-fact, and Eddie appreciates it. “I didn’t like you because I don’t like newcomers, and I don’t like taking people on our ship. People I don’t know. But you… Richie sees something in you that he thinks he can identify with. I didn’t think that was enough, at first, but he trusts you, too. And honestly?” Stan finally looks up from his screen and at Eddie. “I do too.”

“...why?” Eddie asks. Stan shakes his head.

“I’m not sure. And that isn’t like me. I just… do.” He looks down at the table for a moment, then looks up and says, deadpan, “So you better not stab us in the back.” Eddie lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Uh, thank you," he says, awkwardly but genuinely. Stan nod with a small smile and goes back to his screen. Eddie feels… content. Happy. He sinks into the couch a little and sighs a little. 

A crackle of noise suddenly bursts from beside Stan. His eyebrows furrow and picks up something beside him; a comlink. He holds it up to his mouth hesitantly. 

“Come in,” he says. “This is Stan. Is everything alright?” There’s static and mechanical warbling, and then a voice comes in.

“Stan?” says the voice. Eddie realizes with a start that it’s Richie. “Are you there?” His voice is unclear, often overtaken by static.

“You’re too far away, Richie,” says Stan calmly, though there’s something slightly alarmed about his expression. “We can’t hear you.” Ben enters the room, looking concerned. Richie continues to try to talk, but the comlink keeps breaking up.

“Stuck … cornered… help... “

“Richie?” says Stan, the alarm creeping into his voice now. “What’s going on?” The static continues on for a little while longer, growing louder—then, one clear word comes from the din.

“—Bowers!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention this earlier, but all the characters are in their 30s right now. You can imagine them older or younger if you want to, though :)

The comlink cuts out. Static fills the room once more as the three stare at it, gripped in Stan’s hand. 

“Bowers,” says Eddie. “What does that mean?” When he looks up at Stan’s face, he sees that it is drawn and white. “Stan?” He turns to Ben, who is looking at the comlink in horror. “What’s Bowers?” Eddie asks again, fear mounting. “Are they in danger?” 

The comlink clatters to the table as it drops from Stan’s hand. “Who’s Bowers,” he says. “Bowers is a man.” 

“You’ve never heard of him?” asks Ben softly. 

“No,” says Eddie. “Why, should I have?” 

“You’re lucky to have not,” says Stan. He looks up from the table. “Bowers is an Admiral for the Empire.” Eddie blanches.

“The Empire?” he says weakly. 

“That’s not really a problem,” says Ben. “We run into stormtroopers all the time. Even higher-ranking officials, sometimes. But Bowers…”

“He’s insane,” Stan says flatly. “He goes where he wants and does whatever he wants, no matter what the Empire tells him. You never know where you’ll run into him, but if you do, he’ll kill you.” Stan’s looking somewhere beyond Eddie now, something angry and scared in his eyes. 

“But—he’s only an Admiral,” says Eddie, not understanding. Ben shakes his head. 

“It doesn’t matter. People just let him do what he wants. There’s someone high up in Empire ranks protecting him.” 

“So why is he on Barins?” 

“We don’t  _ know _ ,” says Stan fiercely. “We can’t sit around and wonder about it—Bowers is  _ dangerous _ . We’ve got to get the crew and get out of here. Forget the job.” 

“You’re right, you’re right, Stan,” says Ben quickly, a bit soothingly. Eddie sits back and shuts his mouth, feeling guilty. “What are you thinking?” asks Ben. Stan lets out a sharp, frustrated sigh.

“I don’t know. We don’t know where they are, and until we do, we can’t get the ship to them. Someone has to go out and find them while someone else stays with the ship.”

“I could stay with it,” Ben volunteers quickly. “If you find them, I could fly it over to you and the rest of the crew.” Stan shakes his head. 

“Whoever goes out has to be able to defend themselves,” he says. “I can’t shoot, but I can manage a flight. It has to be me. We still don’t know how to find them, though.”

“Can’t you track their comlink with yours?” asks Eddie. Stan looks at Eddie, surprised, but also approving. He turns to look at Ben, who shakes his head.

“It’s a good idea, but all of our comlinks are terrible,” he explains. “They were mostly swiped from jobs or were old or broken ones that I managed to fix. Badly. That’s why the one they’re using has such short range.” 

“Wait,” says Eddie. “Can’t the BB unit track it?” The two stare at him for a moment. 

Stan says, “Can it?” 

Eddie quickly rises and rushes to the repair bay, tripping over some parts and cursing. As he drops to the floor and grabs some tools, Stan and Ben’s feet patter in behind him. 

“I’m just trying to reassemble it,” he says distractedly, reconstructing the droid a bit frantically. “It’s not fully functional yet, but it should be able to do this for us…” He carefully replaces the head onto the body. “Please work,” he mutters. The droid’s optics are dark; then, a light comes into them, and the head of the droid rolls back to the top of its body. After a moment, it lets out a few beeps.

“Yes!” Eddie cries. “Stan, Stan, do you still have the comlink?” He turns to Stan, who looks shocked, but holds up the comlink. “Great.” He turns to the droid. “Hey, BB—BB—”

“BB-7,” Ben whispers.

“—BB-7. Can you track this transmission for us?” The droid beeps, and Eddie responds, “Yes, yes, I know you’re broken, I’m sorry about that but this is really, really important and I  _ promise _ I will fix you, I promise, just  _ please  _ track this transmission.” After some silence, BB-7 lets out a few reluctant beeps. “Thank you! Thank you so much.”

“You can speak binary?” asks Ben. 

“Not the time,” cuts in Stan. “Eddie, what do I do?” 

“Just—try to connect to them again. You don’t need to say anything, just get ahold of them.” 

Stan presses a button on the side of the comlink and waits; static fills the room once more. Suddenly, through a burst of crackling, the sound of blaster fire becomes clear. 

“Stan?” Richie yells through the sounds of fire and the rest of the crew yelling. BB-7’s head spins and they let out a few beeps.

“Richie, are you—“ Stan is cut off as the static returns again. He curses and hits the side of the comlink, which causes it to turn off altogether. “Damn—“ 

“They’ve got it!” Ben and Stan look at Eddie. He listens closely to the droid, eyebrows furrowed. “Coordinates,” he says. “They’re giving us coordinates—we can fly to the crew and find them!” He turns to Ben excitedly. “Come on! Come help me pick them up!” Ben starts a little and nods, rushing over to help Eddie pick up BB-7. The three make their way over to the cockpit as quickly as they can. When they arrive, Stan quickly sits in the pilot’s seat and looks expectantly at Eddie. Eddie and Ben slowly lower BB-7 to the floor. “Alright,” says Eddie, panting a bit. “Coordinates.” He relays them to Stan, who nods and looks at a map he’s pulled up while Ben settles into the chair next to Stan, looking warily at BB-7.

“Er, Eddie,” he says. “Is BB-7 going to be okay?” Eddie looks over at BB-7, alarmed. The droid is sparking a bit at the juncture between their body and head, and begins to let out slow, whooping beeps. Eddie shakes his head quickly.

“It’s fine,” he says, heart thumping in his chest. “It’s fine. All they had to do is give us the coordinates, we can fix them later.” Stan had begun to press a series of buttons, and the engine starts to rumble under Eddie’s feet.

“You’re sure these are the right coordinates?” Stan asks.

“Well they’re the only ones we’ve got!” Eddie shouts a bit shrilly over the rumble of the engine. Stan turns and looks at him in the eye, and Eddie shuts his mouth, cowed. 

Then Stan says, “Alright. We trust you.” He turns back to the control board and presses one final button.  _ Why would you trust me?  _ Eddie thinks manically as he grips the backrest of Ben’s chair while the ship rises up slowly. They fly quickly over the surface of the planet, brushing the tops of trees here and there. Eddie looks out the cockpit window anxiously, searching for any sign of the crew. For a moment, he’s struck again by how quickly he’s become attached to these people. It’s a little abnormal, maybe—it’s a little sad.  _ No,  _ Eddie thinks firmly,  _ I just don’t want them to die _ . But it feels like more than that. Eddie doesn’t just want them to die, but also for them to live. To be in their happy group together on the ship like yesterday. He grips the backrest tighter and scans the planet’s surface with an intensely determined focus. 

They fly for about fifteen minutes, and soon come to a stop over a largish clearing. “This is where the coordinates are,” says Stan, but he sounds dubious. Eddie swallows nervously as they slowly lower to the ground, then whirls as BB-7 lets out another whooping beep. 

“BB-7?” he asks frantically. BB-7’s head spins, and they let out a string of beeps before one, final descending sound. The light in BB-7’s optics fade. “Shit!” Eddie drops to his knees and raises his hands to do— _ something _ , but he doesn’t know what. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” says Ben, already getting out of his seat. “We’ve got the coordinates, let’s go, Eddie.” Eddie looks helplessly at Ben, then back at the droid. 

“Gah! Alright, alright,” he says, getting up and racing out the door after Stan and Ben. They rush down the corridor and to the entry ramp; Stan presses a few buttons on the keypad and the three watch anxiously as the door slowly lowers. When it finally hits the ground, Ben runs out, and Eddie makes to exit as well. He stops at the threshold, though, anxious thoughts suddenly crowding his head. 

“Should I—” he turns to Stan, who’s looking at him like he’s crazy.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks. “Go!” Eddie looks gratefully at him for a moment, then nods and runs out the door. 

It’s disconcerting to be on a new planet for the first time in his life. Eddie races out of the ship and then stops in the knee-length grass, looking around in wonder. The sky is a brilliant blue, the way it never was on Tatooine. The sun is warm, but not blinding—perhaps even comforting.  _ That’s a first. _ Trees rise up all around the ship, dark green and leafy. They seem to be unnaturally tall to Eddie, but he’s never seen a tree in his life. He is, to be fair, taking all of this in a blur of fear and anxiety.  _ The crew!  _ Eddie begins his renewed search, making his way through the tall grass and looking around the clearing. There’s not a person in sight. Eddie pushes frustratedly at the grass and groans, looking out at the trees. The forest. It  _ is  _ unnatural, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s just Eddie, being crazy again. He whirls around when he hears Ben shuffling through the grass from around the other side of the ship.

“Did you find them?” Eddie asks desperately, but Ben shakes his head. 

“I went all the way around the ship,” he says. “Nothing. They’re not here.”

“Fuck!” yells Eddie. He wants to hit something, or break something fragile, but there’s nothing around him but grass. “You guys were right, the droid  _ is _ still broken,” he says. “I thought I had fixed it, but I must have messed up—”

“Hey, hey,” says Ben soothingly, but there’s lines of concern around his eyes; for Eddie or the crew, Eddie doesn’t know. “You did get it to work again—it hasn’t even been functional for months. I’m sure it was only partly inaccurate, so if we look around a little bit more, widen our radius, maybe we can find them—”

“But it might be too late by then,” Eddie says brokenly. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to help. I just—I just made everything worse....” His mother’s face floats in front of him.  _ It’s not safe, Eddie-bear,  _ she says. “No,” he says. He scrubs at his eyes furiously with his knuckles and turns around, stalking through the field aimlessly. “I’ve got to fix this, I have to…”

“Eddie—Eddie!” Ben’s feet crash through the grass and he and grabs Eddie by the shoulder, turning him around. “Eddie, it’s not your fault,” he says. “Just—just take a few deep breaths, we can still find them!” Eddie rips his shoulder from Ben’s and turns, covering his face and trying to calm his breaths. He focuses on his hands on his face, the darkness behind the lids.  _ Just breath. You can’t help anyone like this.  _ Behind him, he can hear Stan calling faintly after them, but he tries to ignore it and focus on his breathing.  _ The sound. The feel of it. In, out.  _ His frantic gasps slow to long sighs. 

Suddenly, he feels—unmoored. Like he’s floating. Everything is still there around him—he can feel the grass around his knees and his hands on his face—but it all fades into the background. It’s like the volume on everything has been turned down. Eddie’s breaths continue to flow in and out of him slowly, calmly, but there’s something else he’s feeling, like a dream he can’t quite grasp just after he wakes up. A tendril of something flows around him. He reaches for it—

A flash of knowing. The forest, and deep in the forest, just north of where the ship is: a small river, cutting through the trees. The rocky waterbed of pale stones on both sides. 

Blaster fire, muffled, but flying through the air in slow motion. Eddie can  _ feel  _ something. It’s the same thing he felt before, those strange trees and that strange forest. But it’s not bad, and no, it’s not strange—it’s familiar.

_ Richie.  _

“I know where they are,” he says. 

“What?” says Ben. “What do you mean?”

“I know where they are,” Eddie repeats forcefully. “Come on!” With that, he runs into the woods. 

“Eddie?” Ben cries, alarmed. “Eddie, wait up!” Eddie can’t wait, though— _ he knows where they are _ . He enters the forest, running past the trees and turning, ducking, skidding down small slopes and making his way to the creek. It’s almost like his body’s out of his control, but also not at all. All of this knowledge, Eddie has in him. He knows what to do. “Eddie!” Ben yells again; he’s farther away this time, but definitely following. 

“Just follow me!” Eddie yells back, eyes focused on the terrain in front of him. He hears feet crashing behind him, slipping and stumbling, but ever-constant. His confidence is returning, no, growing; he feels more sure of himself than he has all day, maybe even all week. Maybe even all his life.  _ Two pairs _ , he thinks suddenly.  _ That’s two pairs of feet behind me. _

“Stan?” he yells.

“We had a plan, Eddie!” Stan yells back, and Eddie laughs. “No, don’t laugh! We had a plan, and now I’m running through the woods with three blasters strapped to my belt!” Eddie skids to a stop by a particularly large tree, turns, and is smushed into the tree by Ben’s momentum. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Ben gasps as Stan comes to a stop behind behind him, panting. “Oh, thanks for coming, Stan. And for bringing the blasters.” Stan, bent over with his hands on his knees, glares at Ben and Eddie. 

“I’m too good for this crew,” he says through heavy exhales, handing each of them a blaster. Ben laughs and nods his head.

“That you are.”

“Okay, we’re really close, it’s just a little bit this way,” says Eddie, looking at the blaster apprehensively before sticking it in his pocket.

“Do you… know how to use that?” asks Ben nervously. Eddie shrugs.

“You just shoot it, right?”

“Er, no—” says Ben, but is cut off by Stan.

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” he says. “Eddie, how do you know where they are? Did the droid tell you? I thought it had turned off.” Eddie shakes his head.

“I… I don’t know how to explain it. It’ll take too long. I’ll tell you later, but right now we have to go get the crew.” Stan looks at him, then sighs and gestures with one hand. Eddie grins, then takes off once more. 

They run for a little while longer, and soon Eddie can hear blaster fire in the distance. He speeds up, his chest heaving; it hurts to run like this, but Eddie can’t really feel it anymore. He’s almost there, and he’s running fast. He can make it; this he knows. 

The three burst out of the woods and onto the bed of the creek, the sun shining brilliantly down upon them. “There!” Eddie cries, and just down the water, he can see Richie, Bev, Bill and Mike lying on their stomachs and shooting across the river. Richie’s head whips up. 

“Eddie?” he yells, a little disbelieving. He squints, then widens his eyes and turns to the rest of them. “Guys, it’s Eddie! It’s the rest of them!” Then a shot hits the ground just in front of Richie, who curses and lays flat again. 

“Get down!” Ben yells over blaster fire, pushing Eddie to the ground as Stan drops behind him. Eddie looks across the water as they begin to crawl over to where Richie and the rest of the crew are. 

Across the water is a line of six stormtroopers—a few dead ones are scattered along the riverside, and Eddie has to force his gaze to pass over them. In the back, behind the stormtroopers, is a man who Eddie assumes to be Admiral Bowers. Eddie had been under the impression that commanding officers didn’t usually engage in combat, but Bowers has a rifle cocked and is shooting at them with an almost crazed grin on his face. He’s fairly tall and a bit portly, his uniform tight where it’s belted around his waist. There’s brownish-blond hair peeking out from under his cap, plastered with sweat. In fact, his whole face shines with sweat. Despite the rigidness of Bowers’s uniform, he seems...rumpled. Unorderly.  _ He seems crazy _ , Eddie thinks, then,  _ he  _ is  _ crazy _ . The thought comes with the certainty of a well-known fact, but Eddie does an internal double-take at this.  _ How would I possibly know that?  _

He shakes it off as they reach the rest of the crew, Eddie settling in next to Richie. As Richie shoots at the other side, he says, “I knew you’d come.” Eddie turns to him, alarmed.

“What?” he says. “How?” Had he felt what Eddie had, the… the searching, the knowing? Eddie waits with bated breath as Richie grins, never taking his eyes off the stormtroopers.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me,” he says, and shoots. A stormtrooper across the way lets out an oddly feminine cry as they stumble backwards. Richie turns his grin to Eddie. “I’m just too compelling.” Eddie’s face is red as he fumbles with his blaster, setting it on the mound. 

“Fuck you,” he says, trying to ignore the way Richie had shot the stormtrooper like it was the easiest thing in the world.  _ It’s just his job, and he didn’t even kill him. It’s not terrifying,  _ Eddie thinks, and then,  _ no, not terrifying at all.  _ “I’m just trying to protect my interests, like I said.” He pulls frustratedly at the trigger, but the blaster only clicks helplessly. Richie reaches over with one hand, eyes still across the river, and does something to Eddie’s gun, which fires a shot when he pulls the trigger back. He lets go of it, startled. 

“Gotta turn your safety off,” says Richie with a badly-hidden, shit-eating grin. Eddie glares and prepares to yell at him, but Richie speaks again, almost as if he knows Eddie was going to contradict him. “I am glad that you guys here are here, though.”

“Yeah,” says Eddie. “Sorry we couldn’t bring anything else.”

“No, this is perfect,” says Richie, and shoots at a stormtrooper’s leg. The stormtrooper flips over rather dramatically; Richie grins again. “Now it’s a fair fight.”

The crew has already taken out a few of the stormtroopers, so now, like Richie said, there are seven of them on each side. Eddie hunkers down and begins to shoot. He’s never used a gun before, and he’s slow at first, missing frequently. Fortunately, the stormtroopers aren’t very good at shooting, either—in fact, Eddie would say that they’re as bad as him, and that’s no small insult. Still, Eddie feels that the more he shoots, the better he gets. It’s not him, though, or any natural talent of his. It’s being around these people. There’s a connectedness, a camaraderie that allows him to begin to forget his inexperience and fear. Beverly lets out a triumphant ‘ha!’ as she takes down one stormtrooper to the left of Bowers, and Mike gives a whoop beside her; they grin at each other. Richie shoots one in the chest and yells, “Suck it!” as they fall backwards onto the waterbed. The crew is winning, Eddie realizes. They’re taking down more by the second, and Bowers’s ranks are dwindling. Eddie shoots again, and by some miracle, catches a stormtrooper in a break in their leg armor. 

“I did it!” he yells as the stormtrooper drops their blaster and crumples, holding their knee. “I shot that guy, did you see that?” Ben grins at him and Richie lets out a delighted laugh.

“You’re a natural, Eds!” he yells back. Eddie’s too exhilarated to correct him on the name. Stan shoots down another stormtrooper, and with two, quick shots Mike fells a trooper on Eddie’s right. Ben stands up and shoots a trooper right in the helmet; they fall like a tree. The crew whoops and laughs, scrambling up from the rocky dune and looking upon their waste. Groaning stormtroopers are strewn about the opposite side of the creek. Bill steps in front of the crew, and raises his blaster to point at Bowers across the way. 

“You wanna do this?” he says, cockily (and rightfully so). “You know you can’t win.” Bowers lowers his blaster, his arms trembling a bit—but all of a sudden the atmosphere turns dark. The joy seeps from the crew as Bowers states at them across the water, the blaster hanging forgotten at his side. There’s a hate burning in his eyes that seems to have come from nowhere. An old sort of terror creeps up Eddie’s throat. Still, Bill holds firm and keeps his gun steady. “You get out of here,” he says softly. “Or I’ll split your head open. I mean it.” Bowers’s eyes burn, and very slowly, a terrified grin spreads across his face.

“Pay ‘em back,” he says. In his periphery, Eddie sees Richie’s eyebrows furrow. Bill’s gun lowers just the slightest bit. “Pay ‘em back,” he repeats, his voice loud and trembling with fury. “I said I’d pay ‘em back, I’ll pay ‘em back!” Then there’s a shot, loud and startling. It lands between Bowers’s feet; he looks down, then up, and drops his blaster. 

“Go away,” says Mike, his gun smoking. Bowers looks at him with wide, white eyes, then turns on his heel and scrambles away, back into the woods. Mike lowers his gun and stares at the forest.

“Mike,” says Richie after a moment, softly and full of awe. The whole crew’s looking at Mike the same way Richie’s speaking. They’re all quiet for a moment as Mike looks back at all of them, Bill especially. Then Richie says, “I had no idea you were such a badass!” Mike is startled into a laugh, and the tension breaks as the whole crew laughs with him. Eddie lowers his weapon and grins at Ben, who’s doing the same and looking equally happy. Exhilaration and adrenaline are still pumping through Eddie as he watches Bill clap Mike on the shoulder and say, 

“Nice shot,” to which Mike responds with an embarrassed, happy smile. 

“No, seriously, Mike, how have you hid this for so long?” Richie asks. “You were such a nice, warm-and-fuzzy librarian and then you start shooting better than  _ me! _ ”

“That’s not saying much,” says Stan drily, and they all laugh as Richie gives Stan the middle finger. 

“You might even be better than me, Mike,” says Beverly appraisingly. Mike emphatically shakes his head and says,

“No, never! You’ll always be our sharpshooter, Bev.” Beverly smiles fondly and leans into him. 

“Wait, wait a minute,” says Richie, holding up his hands and turning on a heel towards Eddie and Ben. “How did you guys find us? Our comlink was out of range, right?” 

“Oh, it was crazy!” jumps in Ben. “Stan and I got your message and were panicking, but Eddie didn’t freak out and got the droid to track your transmission!” Richie looks at Eddie with wide eyes. “And even though the coordinates were a little wrong, he was still able to find you all! We wouldn’t have been here without him.” 

“I mean, that’s sort of an exaggeration,” says Eddie, embarrassed but pleased. Richie scoffs good-naturedly.

“He’s obviously lying,” says Richie. “I bet he purposely tries to seem normal to hide his fucking awesome tech-robot talent things. And, like, sense of direction, apparently. Man, how come  _ you  _ aren’t a bounty hunter?” He’s joking, but there’s real admiration in his tone. Eddie blushes and looks away from Richie’s knowing grin.

“In all seriousness, though,” cuts in Bill. “Thank you, Eddie. We really owe you. If there’s anything else we can do for you, just let us know.” The rest of the crew nods emphatically. 

“I—thank you. I mean. I’m just glad you’re all okay.” 

“So it’s not just because we’re your ride?” Beverly asks cheekily. Eddie flushes again and she laughs. “I’m just kidding, Eddie.” Behind her, Richie gives Eddie a fond smile. Eddie feels very transparent in front of these people, and he should be terrified of that, of their knowing faces and smiles.  _ You were always terrified of that with Myra. _ But, oddly, it’s okay. Eddie feels seen, exposed, but the upside of that, he supposes, is that people actually know him.  _ Maybe I should go to therapy,  _ Eddie thinks, and then another thought occurs to him.

“Wait!” he cries. “How did Bowers find you? And why was he attacking you? Why was this all happening in the first place?” The crew looks at Bill, who shakes his head.

“We have no idea,” Bill says. “We went to the employer, who showed us where the plumbing line was, and we were following that when Bowers and his stormtroopers jumped out at us from the forest. We certainly weren’t being aggressive to them; they just started attacking.”

“To be fair, we are illegal bounty hunters,” Mike points out. “We don’t really follow the law. By Empire rule, they do have a justification to try to arrest us.”

“But how did they know you were here?” Eddie asks. Mike shrugs.

“We can only assume that it was a coincidence,” says Bill. “There’s no other explanation that makes any sense.” 

“We have run into Bowers a few times before,” interjects Beverly, and Ben nods. “Maybe he’s got something against us, wants to bring us in for escaping so many times.”

“Is that why he said that?” Bill frowns.

“Said what?” he asks Eddie.

“‘Pay ‘em back,’” Eddie repeats. “‘I said I’d pay ‘em back.’” The crew is quiet, thoughtful—maybe even a little somber. Then Bill looks up.

“I don’t know why he said that,” Bill says. Eddie looks to Stan, who looks back at him with serious, dark eyes. He looks back at the rest of the crew, most of whom are looking at the ground thoughtfully. A bolt of guilt shoots through him. The joyful atmosphere of the group has been brought down, all because of Eddie. He wants to say something, but he’s not sure what. Then Ben pipes up.

“Look,” he says. “Speculating about it won’t do us any good. We still won’t know, and I doubt the Empire knows, either. But we can focus on the fact that we won. You’re all safe, Bowers is retreating, and we can get this job done and move out quickly.” 

“Yeah,” says Richie, looking up. He hasn’t spoken in some time—Eddie feels even worse, realizing this fact. But Richie says, “We really showed that dumbass. Why the fuck are we letting him bring us down? He’s crazy, and he’s not even here!” He looks at Eddie for—what? Approval? 

“Yeah,” repeats Eddie slowly. “Fuck that asshole.” Richie grins.

“Exactly. Look, let’s just go finish the job, and when we come back Eddie can teach me how to build my own robot and Mike can teach me to...shoot, apparently.”

“I’ve been offering to do that all along,” says Mike, grinning.

“Well, I never knew that you had anything to offer!” Richie retorts, and Beverly and Bill shake their heads, look at each other with fond smiles, and begin walking back into the forest. “That’s clearly your fault,  _ Michael _ , for not giving me enough information.”

“You never asked for any!” says Mike, following the crew into the woods. 

“We’ll see you back at the ship!” Beverly calls to Stan, Ben, and Eddie, and Bill waves while Richie continues his argument with Mike. Ben laughs and waves back at the crew.

“Do you think they’ll be okay this time?” Eddie asks anxiously. Ben nods.

“We’re in much closer range this time, so they can call us if necessary, and honestly, I think we’ve eliminated any of the threats this planet has. I doubt the animals will be a problem, since it’s not night.” Ben smiles at him. “It’s all okay, Eddie.” 

“Alright,” Eddie says after a moment. “That makes sense.” Stan nods.

“Ready to go back to the ship?” he asks. Eddie nods back at Stan.

“Yeah,” he says, with one more look back at the crew. “I’m ready.”

They get back to the ship as the sun begins to set; after about an hour of darkness, the rest of the crew arrives, to Eddie’s relief. It’s partly because he’s worried for their safety, obviously, but also because he’s been trying to avoid Stan. Eddie knows Stan can tell something’s up; Eddie gets the feeling that Ben, as kind and earnest as he is, is sort of oblivious about a lot of things. Stan, though, is perceptive, and yeah, Eddie had promised to explain how he knew where Richie and the crew were, but… he really doesn’t know how. He’s never been good at lying, and if he’s being completely honest with himself, he doesn’t know how he did it in the first place. The feeling, that sureness and knowing, has faded, and now Eddie can’t even begin to articulate it. What can he tell Stan, that he’s magic? Fortunately, Stan hasn’t pursued it since they got back to the ship.  _ Maybe he forgot, _ Eddie thinks optimistically. He’s abandoned the droid for now and is sitting back on the green couch, listening to the rest of the crew putter around. It’s comforting to hear them, just know they’re there. This perhaps isn’t the best spot to avoid Stan, though, since it is a thoroughfare of sorts. Maybe he’ll go see what Richie’s doing. Mike walks through just then, sipping something from an old metal cup. 

“Hey Mike, have you seen Richie?” Mike looks up and gestures to the hallway he came from.

“I think he’s in the crew quarters.”

“Thanks.” Eddie gets up from the couch and makes his way down the hall, turning to the left and walking straight for a bit longer. Eventually, a door opens up on his right, and he goes in.

The crew quarters are sparsely decorated; the walls were presumably white at one point, but now are a duller sort of gray. Three bunks are installed in one wall, and on the opposite wall there’s a chair propped up next to a desk with a radio on it. Richie is laying on the bottom bunk, arms folded under his head and looking upwards. When Eddie enters, he lifts his head and his face brightens. 

“Eds!” he cries, rolling over and hopping off the bunk. “How nice of you to visit me. I haven’t gotten to properly express my gratitude for you!” He reaches for Eddie with grabby hands and a messy smooch face. 

“Blergh,” Eddie says, pushing him away, and Richie laughs. 

“What brings you here, my good man?” he says grandly, affecting a formal voice. “It can’t possibly be just to see me. Unless…” Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“I mean, it’s a little that,” he says, and Richie gasps, touched. “But I’m also… uh…” He hadn’t thought this far ahead. Eddie attempts to think up a believable lie that doesn’t involve having to tell Richie he’s avoiding Stan—and furthermore, doesn’t involve him telling Richie that he’s hiding something from Stan. 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” says Richie, and Eddie turns to him, surprised.

“You do?” he says nervously. Richie nods.

“Of course. You don’t need to make excuses, Eds, I’ll come spend time with you any day to make up for your crippling loneliness.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” says Eddie, relieved (but also a little annoyed. A bit  _ too _ on the nose, perhaps). He looks around the quarters and tries to think of something to say. “Only three beds?” he asks after a minute. Richie looks behind him at the bunks.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. We take turns sleeping, ‘cause there’s not really a nighttime in space, anyway.” 

“Ah,” says Eddie. An awkward quiet settles in.

“So,” says Richie. “You’re leaving tomorrow. Or, I guess you’re going tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I guess. Where are you going to drop me off, again?”

“Alderaan,” answers Richie, sitting back down on the bunk. “It’s a nice planet. Pretty. Lots of cities and people.” 

“Oh, that’s nice,” says Eddie. He pulls out the chair by the desk and sitting down. “I’ve never really been to a city. I guess there are a few on Tatooine, but they don’t really count.”

“What are you going to do when you get there?” asks Richie curiously. Eddie shakes his head, trying to imagine what a city would even look like.

“I have no idea,” he says. “I guess… I guess I’ll try to find a job.” Richie gives him a look.

“That’s it?” he says. Eddie frowns.

“What’s wrong with that? It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do!”

“I mean yeah, it’s  _ reasonable _ ,” Richie says, “But it’s Alderaan! It’s a new planet you’ve never even been to before! Come on, I bet Bill and the crew would hook you up with some credits before you go, after what you did for us.” Eddie blushes. “Aw man, seriously! You wouldn’t have to worry about a job for a little bit. Go have fun! Relax! Do like, tourist shit or something. Buy a fun hat!” 

“Or I could do that stuff after I get a home and steady income,” argues Eddie.

“Yeah, but will you?” Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it. Then he says,

“Well—maybe I don’t want to! Maybe that’s not my thing!”

“I guess,” Richie says, leaning back. “It just sounds kind of boring, man.” 

“Yeah, well, boring’s kind of my deal,” says Eddie. “I’m not made for excitement.” Richie looks at him like he’s crazy, just squinting through his thick-rimmed glasses. 

“Sorry,  _ what? _ ” he says incredulously. 

“I don’t know, dude!” Eddie says. “I just—there’s a reason I’m not a bounty hunter, you know? Or like, flying ships. I’m better at domestic stuff! It’s just the way I am.” Eddie realizes he’s waving his hands again, the way he does when he gets worked up, and lowers them, embarrassed. 

“Okay, look, Eds—”

“Eddie.”

“—fine, Eddie. While I do agree that you have a very housewifely aura—”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“—there’s no way that you were  _ meant _ to have a boring job. I mean, did you even see yourself out there? You were a fucking badass! You reconstructed a droid! You barged into a forest just to save some people you didn’t even really know! You shot a fucking stormtrooper, man! How many civilians can say they’ve shot a stormtrooper?”

“Yeah, that’s illegal!” says Eddie shrilly. “And I’m still freaking out about it! Plus, the droid’s still broken, and I—dude, I was so fucking scared the entire time. I’m not made for this.”

“It’s not about being scared!” says Richie, looking at Eddie seriously. “We’re all scared, all the time, or at least I am. It’s about doing it anyway, and you did.” Eddie shakes his head.

“I don’t know, man,” he says. 

“I keep telling you you’re cool, Eddie,” Richie says, and Eddie looks up at that because for once, Richie’s voice isn’t loud or dramatic. “Why don’t you believe me?” 

Eddie doesn’t know what to say. He opens his mouth a little, shakes his head the slightest bit. 

“We all really like you, Eddie. Even Stan, and he doesn’t like anyone.” 

“Why?” Eddie asks finally. His mouth is dry. Richie shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “You’re just easy to trust. I know that you’re gonna try your hardest at what you do. You know, I...” Richie laughs a little to himself. “This is gonna sound crazy, but I… I kind of knew that you would find us.” Eddie’s eyes widen. “I was shooting at Bowers, and I just got this feeling…. I don’t know. Like you were there? Looking for us? And I knew that you had found us.” Richie laughs self-consciously and adjusts his glasses.  _ He felt it,  _ Eddie thinks.  _ Does he know?  _ But as far as Eddie can tell, Richie doesn’t know anything more than what he’s said. And yet… he still felt Eddie. He trusts Eddie. 

“I lied,” says Eddie. “Earlier.” Richie looks up at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I did leave someone behind on Tatooine.” Richie’s eyes widen a little bit. 

“Whoa,” he says. “That’s kind of a roundabout. Uh, who’d you leave?” Eddie swallows. 

“My wife.” 

Richie boggles at him, mouth agape. He says, “You’re  _ married?”  _

“Yeah, that’s what  _ having a wife _ means, Richie.”

“You’re married to a  _ woman? _ ” 

“Oh, fuck you,” says Eddie, rolling his eyes. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Richie backtracks. “I was rude, you just caught me by surprise. I—gonna be honest, Eds, I kind of assumed you were gay.” Eddie’s silent. Richie’s eyes widen even further. “ _ Eddie! _ ” he exclaims, grinning. 

“I—I didn’t know!” says Eddie defensively. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have gone through with it, and I mean, I’m not even sure  _ now _ —”

“Well, then why did you leave? And why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Eddie sighs.

“I didn’t tell you cause I didn’t want to seem like a dick who’s just having a midlife crisis and running away. And that’s  _ not _ it, I swear.”

“I believe you,” Richie says consolingly. “So why did you go, then?” Eddie’s quiet for a moment. 

He says, “I was out on the farm with Myra—that’s my wife. She—she never let me leave the house alone, or do things without telling her, but it was out of love, sort of. She wanted me to be safe, you know? If she always knew what I was doing, she could keep me from getting hurt. So I was out on the farm with her, and this ship flew overhead—” Eddie stops as a thought strikes him. “God, I think it must have been your ship.  _ The Silver _ . I—I don’t know what came over me, but for some reason I told her about how I had wanted to be a pilot, as a kid. And she said, ‘Oh Eddie, you know you’re too fragile for that. You couldn’t risk going up in one of those terrible machines.’ And I looked over at her, and I swear, I thought—” Eddie drops his head, pinches the bridge of his nose. “God. I thought she was my mother.”

Richie lets out a low whistle. “Damn,” he says. “I—jeez, buddy. Are you okay?” Eddie laughs.

“I don’t know. I’m better now, I guess, now that I’ve left. I just—I can’t believed that I stayed there with her all those years, that I didn’t even— _ recognize  _ it. Know. I mean, I sort of knew a little bit, always, but now it’s just so obvious. I feel so stupid.” 

“Hey, you know that’s not your fault, right?” Richie says. “I mean, that’s, like—trauma. It’s your mom’s fault, and your wife’s not yours. I mean, I don’t really know what they did, or what it was like for you, but it’s not… it’s not your fault, Eddie.” 

“Thanks, Richie.” Eddie laughs sadly again. “I guess I don’t seem very cool now.”

“Are you kidding?” says Richie. “I mean, you went through all that shit, and now you’re like, a robot-builder—there must be a real name for that, I’ll figure it out some day—but anyway, point is, you’re no less cool in my eyes.” Eddie looks at him gratefully.

“Thank you, Rich,” he says. “Really.” Richie gives him a kind smile.

“Yeah, any time.” Then he yawns, covering his mouth as an afterthought. “I think I actually will turn in now, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Actually, could I ask you one more thing?” says Eddie.

“Huh? Oh, sure, shoot.” Eddie tries to figure out how to put it. He finally decides on,

“Did Bowers seem, like...weird?” and cringes afterwards. Richie frowns.

“I mean… yeah? He’s insane. And he was trying to kill us.” 

“No, no, it’s not that,” says Eddie. “He just… I don’t know. I got a really weird feeling from him.” 

“I think everybody does,” says Richie. “He’s kind of just a weird guy, Eds. But look, we’re okay now. We defeated him and you never have to see him again—you’re not a bounty hunter. He doesn’t have any reason to go after you. You’re safe. We won’t bother you again once you get off.” At that last sentence, Eddie feels a pang of sadness again. He feels so much closer to these people than he’s felt to… well, anyone, really. This can’t just be loneliness, can it? 

“Thanks,” Eddie says, trying to instill all the emotion he feels into his words. “For everything.”

“Of course,” says Richie. “It’s my pleasure.” Eddie gets up from his desk chair and smiles a bit awkwardly, then walks to the door and exits the crew quarters. He walks a bit down the hall and stops for a moment, hearing Richie shift around on the bunk. He sighs quietly and makes his way back to the main room. When he enters, he surveys the room for a moment. The room he had hated so much a day ago feels so familiar and warm now. He lays down on the worn couch and looks up at the rusted metal pipes, drifting slowly off to sleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> search history: do they have clowns in Star Wars
> 
> CW: Panic attacks, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of verbal abuse

Eddie wakes with a start as the ship groans around him. He sits up quickly, alarmed. Stan is drinking something—probably tea—and reading another hologram at the engineering table.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie asks. Stan looks up from his table and nods.

“We’re fueling up before we head to Alderaan,” he says. “It’s just rough on the ship sometimes.” Eddie nods to himself and suddenly groans, holding his head. Stan sets his tea down, concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, voice strained. “Fine.” He shakes his head and sighs. “Just a...pain behind my eyes. Must not have slept well.” 

“Alright,” says Stan, worry lining his face. Eddie hopes that Stan won’t ask about yesterday, in the woods. Stan’s quiet for a moment, then says, “I think Mike wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?” says Eddie. It’s not quite what he expected. 

“Yeah. He should be in the cockpit.” Eddie nods and stands up. He feels extremely shitty. He covers his face for a second with one hand and tries to remember what he dreamed about. Despite his best efforts, he can’t recall it. Maybe he didn’t dream about anything. He sighs and makes his way to the cockpit.

When he enters, the cockpit is bathed in the quiet light of the stars through the opening in the fuel station. In this part of the ship, he can hear droids and people milling about in the station, equipment starting up and breaking down. Bill and Mike are talking quietly to each other, unaware Eddie has entered.

“Uh, Mike?” They both turn, and Eddie immediately feels self-conscious. He should have put himself together, or something. He tries not to think about his bed head and says, “You wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yeah, that’s right,” says Mike. He turns to Bill. “You’ll be okay here?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Bill answers, and the two smile at each other. Then Mike stands up and says, 

“Come on, Eddie.” 

Together, they leave the cockpit and walk back down the hall, through the main hold and into a little room Eddie hasn’t been before. He still feels half-asleep, and not in a pleasant, floating way. It’s more like he’s been forcefully ground into awakeness. They make their way through another small room, and then finally, a larger room. Eddie had never explored the ship—he hadn’t felt it was his right. This room is fairly empty, save for the life support systems to the doors’ left.

“What is this?” Eddie asks. 

“This room?” Mike replies. “This is the second hold. Sorry, I just wanted to find somewhere private. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.”

“Oh good,” says Eddie, rubbing his eyes. Mike laughs a little.

“Sorry to wake you up.”

“No, it’s alright. It was the ship, not you.”

“Good.” Mike looks away from him for a moment, seemingly looking for the words he wants to say. When he does speak, his voice is steady, but his words don’t seem rehearsed. “We’ll reach Alderaan in a few hours,” he says. “We’re taking a little longer than we had originally planned, since we stopped to fuel up, but we’ll get there today all the same.” 

“Okay,” says Eddie after a moment “That’s good.” 

“I wanted to catch you before you left, though, and ask you something on the behalf of the entire crew.”

“Oh, if this is, like, a gratitude thing, don’t worry about it,” Eddie jumps in. “You don’t need to do anything more for me. I’m just glad I could help, and I promise I will get that droid fixed today.” 

“That’s...not exactly it,” says Mike. “Though you’ve got some idea of where I’m going.” He smiles warmly at Eddie. “We’re really grateful for what you did, Eddie—your help is really valuable to us. No one else on this crew could have fixed the BB unit and found us the way you did. You’ve got a gift with droids, and apparently, according to Stan, with navigation as well. That could be a real asset to the team. I know Ben has discussed this before, but I want to reiterate; we are  _ technically  _ bounty hunters, but we don’t take kill missions, only captures or aid like we did yesterday.”

“...why are you telling me this?” Eddie asks slowly. Mike looks him in the eye.

“I’m asking if you would want to join our crew.” 

Eddie stares at Mike, mouth slightly open. After a moment, he says, “I—I don’t—“

“You don’t need to decide right now,” Mike says quickly, placatingly. “I understand—we  _ all  _ understand—that this would be a very large change from your lifestyle. Like I said, we’ve got a few more hours before we get to Alderaan. You can take as much time as you need. Honestly, we don’t have any missions lined up right now, so we can even wait for you on Alderaan. And, Eddie—“ Mike gives him that warm, genuine smile again. “Whatever you decide, we’ll be okay with. This is your choice. If you do decide to come with us, we would be thrilled, but please don’t feel any pressure from us.” 

“Yeah,” says Eddie, dazed. “Yeah, uh...okay. Yeah, I’ll think about it. I’m sorry, I’m—I’m not awake enough for this. I’m sorry.” Mike waves his hand as if to say  _ Don’t worry about it.  _ Eddie nods, says “Thanks,” and rushes out of the room without another word.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid!  _ he thinks, face burning. Why had he done that? Wasn’t he just thinking how he wanted to stay with the crew a little longer?  _ You’re a scaredy-cat _ , Eddie thinks to himself.  _ You’re weak. And fucking rude! You could have at least been nice to Mike, since he just offered you a fucking job!  _ But on the Silver...forever? With the rest of the crew, doing missions and going on adventures, flying through space…it sounds like one of Eddie’s childhood fantasies, in that it’s unrealistic and would never happen. Doesn’t it make sense, though? Doesn’t it sound nice? Eddie’s head is spinning; he’s walking around the ship in a blind panic, he realizes, and doubles back to the main hold.

When he arrives, the hold is empty; Stan has presumably gone on to a different room. Eddie collapses onto the couch and holds his head in his hands, partly from the choice he has to make and partly from the fatigue headache he’s developing. He shouldn’t be freaking out this much; it’s just a decision. It’s just a job offer. But hell if it feels more than that. Eddie’s head startles out of the cradle of his hand when someone plops into the seat next to him.

Beverly groans and rubs her forehead, holding a cup of what smells like coffee in her other hand. “Hey Eddie,” she says tiredly, drinking from her cup and sighing. 

“Hi,” says Eddie, a bit nonplussed. Just then, Richie walks in through the hallway Eddie came in.

“Hey Bev, hey—“ Richie does a double take. “...Eds,” he finishes. There’s a strange look in his eye as he turns away from the two of them. “Uh, I’m just gonna...stand over here.” He goes over awkwardly to the engineer station and begins to rummage around—for what, Eddie has no idea. He wonders if he’s done something wrong; the two of them had seemed to be on good terms the night before. He tries not to freak out about it. Eddie knows he’s being dramatic, but it feels like everything’s going to shit right now. He rubs his eyes again; at this, Beverly looks up at him.

“Whoa,” she says. “And I thought I had a bad night. Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” says Eddie. “Just slept badly, and then—uh…” Eddie shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” Something dawns in Beverly’s eyes and Eddie thinks,  _ Shit, did Mike tell everyone?  _ That must be why Richie’s acting so weird. Beverly doesn’t press it though, just nods and sips her coffee.

“Yeah,” she says after she swallows. “I feel that, too.”

“Oh, did you sleep badly?” Eddie asks politely. Beverly nods. 

“Bad dreams,” she says offhandedly, sipping again. 

“About what?” Beverly looks at Eddie, surprised.  _ Stupid,  _ Eddie thinks again. To be honest, he’s not really sure why he said that, either. It’s far more forward than he intended, and he doesn’t really need to know. It’s just that for some reason, a strange curiosity has possessed him. Maybe he wants to forget his own problems and think about somebody else’s nightmares. Beverly opens her mouth a little, and for a moment Eddie thinks she’s actually going to tell him. Then she shakes her head and looks into her coffee cup, wearing a small, cynical smile.

“I don’t remember,” she says, and sips her coffee once more. Eddie nods and looks at the floor. 

“Yeah, I had bad dreams, too,” he says. Odd—he hadn’t been sure that he’d had dreams at all until just now. Suddenly, Eddie gets a flash of something, an image. “I...I think I remember them,” he says slowly. Beverly looks up at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Eddie looks to the side, trying to remember. “They—they were—“ 

_ Eddie stands in a dark hallway, lit along the walls with bright, white lights. There’s someone walking towards him. He can hear their footsteps. _

_ Eddie is standing in the grass, in the rain, and thunder booms overhead. There’s a child in a stormtrooper outfit some meters away from him. _

_ Eddie is a child, looking up at his mother: fat, sweaty, angry to tears. “I just want to keep you safe!” she cries. Eddie turns and runs. _

_ Eddie is a child. He looks down at his own hands, and they’re wearing stormtrooper gloves of their own. “I’ll get you!” screams the boy in the stormtrooper outfit. He’s sobbing. _

_ Their footsteps grow closer. Eddie trembles, a small boy alone in the hallway.  _

_ Eddie is in a vast, darkened room. Someone lays on the ground in front of him, and a pale light shines over them. Six child stormtroopers stand with Eddie, looking down at the body. _

_ The boy pulls off his helmet. In the rain, his brown-blond hair is plastered to his hair.  _

_ Closer, closer. Closer it steps. _

_ “Losers stick together,” says a girl’s voice from inside one of the helmets. All of the other stormtroopers look at her. _

_ Closer. _

_ “I’ll get you, Eddie Kaspbrak!” screams Henry Bowers. “I’ll get you!”  _

_ It comes closer. _

_ “We’ll always be friends, right, Eddie?” asks a young boy’s voice.  _

_ A figure in a dark hood rounds the corner of the hallway. Eddie’s arm is broken. _

_ Richie Tozier takes off his stormtrooper helmet. “Best friends,” he says, and smiles happily.  _

_ The figure pulls off the hood. Pale face. Yellow eyes. Eddie lets out one, high scream. _

_ The Losers take off their helmets and smile at each other. _

_ Eddie runs away from his mother, into the desert. A TIE fighter roars over him. Somewhere, far away or very close by, blasters are firing.  _

_ Red lips pull into a drooling smile. _

_ It. _

“...he’s having a panic attack!” Eddie slowly becomes aware of other voices; people, crowded around him. His chest flares in pain—he’s wheezing, gasping.  _ An asthma attack, _ says his mother’s voice. Eddie grabs his chest and tries to slow his breathing.

“Eddie!” Richie’s face comes into focus. “Eddie, we’re here.” He grasps Eddie’s hand. “What do you need? How can we help you?” Eddie shakes his hand, still gasping. “Okay, just—just count to ten with me. Ready? One, two…” Richie’s breathing is slow and steady, his voice confident. Behind him, Eddie sees the rest of the crew, looking at him worriedly. “Five, six, seven…” Richie reaches ten and begins again, his breathing a constant along with his counting. Eddie closes his eyes, and his gasps slowly even out. When he opens them, he’s looking right into Richie’s. Richie smiles a little, eyes kind.

“You’re kind of squeezing my hand there, bud,” he says, and Eddie looks down. Richie’s hand is white. Eddie lets go of his hand, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he says, throat hoarse, then shakes his head and says “I’m sorry. I don’t—I—this hasn’t happened in so long, I—I’m really sorry.”

“Well, don’t be,” says Beverly from beside him. Eddie turns, a little startled, and she looks at him seriously. “It’s all okay.” Eddie times back to Richie, mouth slightly open; he doesn’t know what he wants to say. He doesn’t know if he wants to speak at all. Richie searches his eyes.

“What...happened, Eds?” he asks. “One minute, you were talking with Beverly and the next, you were hyperventilating.”

“Eddie,” says Mike, and when Eddie looks up, Mike’s face looks pained, guilty. “I am so sorry. This is my fault, I shouldn’t have—“

“No, no!” Eddie says quickly. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t that at all.” Richie blinks twice; this is the only sign of surprise he gives.

He says, “Well, if it wasn’t that, then...I mean, if you don’t want to tell us, that’s—“

“No, no I do,” Eddie interrupts, looking down at his empty hands. He wishes he could hold Richie’s again, let Richie’s warmth ground him. The words are heavy on his tongue, but he doesn’t want to say them. He’s shaking slightly, he thinks; he pulls his hands into fists on his legs. “This is going to sound insane,” he manages finally, “but…” He looks at the crew. Bill, Mike, Stan, Beverly and Ben watch him back, concern badly hidden on each of their faces. Richie, at Eddie’s knees, looks up at him with the same concern, trying to hold it back in his expression. He fails: it burns through his eyes and the curve of his mouth. “Did we...know each other?” Bill’s eyebrows slowly furrow, and he turns his head slightly, concerned and confused.

“...what do you mean?” he asks finally. 

“Before Tatooine,” Eddie answers, looking at Bill. “Had we ever met before? Somewhere else?” Bill shakes his head, after a moment, watching Eddie with no comprehension.

“I don’t think so,” he says. “We would remember that, I think.”

“Come on,” Eddie presses. “When we were younger?” He looks at the rest of the crew—no one else seems to know what he’s talking about. Even Stan’s face is no longer blank, but slightly puzzled. “I—I can’t be crazy,” says Eddie. He feels the panic slowly begin to mount, and takes a deep, slow breath. Richie quickly grasps his hand again, and Eddie looks down at him gratefully. Richie smiles back supportively and rubs his thumb along Eddie’s hand. “Mike,” he says finally, looking up at him. Mike looks just as confused as the rest of the crew, but he says,

“Yeah, Eddie?”

“Don’t you remember something? Just a little? You—you’ve gotta, I feel like you have to—do you? Anything at all?” Mike seems genuinely upset when he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” he says. “I had never met you before Tatooine. I would have said something.” Eddie lets out a frustrated noise and runs the hand not holding Richie’s through his hair.

“There’s—there’s something I’m missing,” he grinds out. “I’m sorry, I’m trying—“ Beverly and Mike once again reassure him that it’s okay, but Eddie blocks it out, squeezing his eyes shut. What is he not getting?  _ Think, think!  _ Bowers, screaming at him in the rain—why was he a child? How did they know each other? How does Eddie know  _ any  _ of these people, so different from him and yet so familiar—so much like the family he’s never had? 

A word comes to him from the dark. 

Eddie opens his eyes slowly, lifts his head and looks at Mike, trembling. “Derry,” he says. “Mike Hanlon, from Derry.” 

The room is struck silent; the crew is wide-eyed. Richie’s hand, which has gone slack, slowly falls out of Eddie’s. 

“How...how do you know his last name?” Beverly asks slowly. “How could you know that?” Suddenly, from the corner, something crashes to the floor. The crew turns quickly to the left of the hold. Stan’s face is white, and his hands are shaking. He’s knocked a hologram projector to the floor.

“I—I have to go,” he says, and without another word, runs from the hold. Richie stands up abruptly, looking down the hall.

“Stan?” he calls, alarmed. The hologram blinks and buzzes on the floor. “Stan, where did you—“ Richie makes as if you leave the hold, then stops dead in his tracks. “I—“ he says. His chest begins to rise and fall rapidly. He says weakly, “Stan—what—“ Then Richie slaps a hand to his mouth, turns on his heel, and runs out of the other exit of the hold. Loud retching sounds come from the hall. 

“Oh, Richie,” says Mike, pained. He runs from the hold to the other room while the crew watches with wide eyes. Mike’s voice floats faintly back to Eddie as Mike comforts Richie, who continues to vomit. 

“I don’t understand,” says Bill, watching the exit of the hold with wide eyes and a shaken expression. Beside him, Ben stumbles back into the desk; Bill’s head whips to Ben as he reaches blindly behind him and grabs ahold of the chair, slowly sitting into it. His terrified eyes are looking somewhere far into the distance. “Ben?” says Bill desperately. Richie retches again and Bill turns back to the exit. “Ri-Rich—” He stops. Starts again. “Ri—r-ri-ri— _ Rich _ —“ Bill swallows and swallows and swallows and says “He th-thrusts—“ then stumbles back against the wall and stays there, mouth moving silently. Eddie looks over at Beverly in a calm, controlled sort of horror. Her hands are shaking, a small, pearly tear slipping down her cheek. 

“We...forgot?” she says softly. Richie bursts suddenly from the other room, and she doesn’t even look up. He stumbles a little and holds onto the doorway, wiping his mouth.

“Someone—someone has to go find Stan,” he says. His eyes look exhausted, like he’s suddenly aged years. He stumbles once more, then runs unsteadily through the hold and out the door Stan left through. From the other door, Mike slowly enters, eyes unseeing, and puts his hand on the doorway. The crew stares silently at the floor, each in their own world. 

“Derry,” says Mike finally, and there’s a dejectedness in his voice Eddie has never heard since he’s met him—since he’s known him. Even back then. “We were brought to Derry.” Bill rubs his mouth roughly, still looking off into the distance. His eyes are red, Eddie notices suddenly. He shakes his head suddenly and says,

“I can’t,” and walks briskly from the room. Mike turns, says,

“Bill—“ and follows him out. It’s just Ben, Beverly, and Eddie now. Eddie feels—hollow. Not empty, but just scooped out of anything. Suddenly, he needs to be alone. He gets up abruptly, opens and closes his fists awkwardly. Ben and Beverly don’t seem to notice, staring at their respective patches of floor. 

“Sorry,” Eddie says quickly, and leaves the room. 

He walks blindly, turning through halls and doubling back when he hears voices. His head is pounding, his hands sweaty. He stops suddenly, finding himself in the cockpit. Good. Isolated, quiet. The light of the stars shines calmly through the window as Eddie stumbles through, sitting on the edge of the pilot’s seat and rubbing his hands over his face. 

“What the fuck,” he whispers to himself. He breathes out a sigh, alone with the stars.

“You okay?” Eddie looks up from his hands. Beverly is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. There’s a tired, but fond look on her face.

“Hey, Bev,” says Eddie, and she smiles. She walks over to the copilot seat and sits down, looking at the floor. Her hair, shorn at her neck, hangs over her face. It’s just as red and vibrant as the days when they were kids, when they took off their helmets, deep in the forest where the commanders couldn’t find them. The eyes of her smile were always the kindest. Those eyes, older but no less kind, look up at Eddie.

“What do you remember?” Bev asks in that gentle way of hers. “It’s starting to come back to me, slowly. But I want to know what you remember.” Eddie looks out the cockpit window; in the distance, a tall repair droid uses a welder on an old ship. 

“I had run away that day,” he says softly. “I lived on a moisture farm with my mom, on Tatooine, and she had told me she wasn’t going to let me enroll at the Imperial flight academy. She’d said she would enroll me, and she lied. So I ran. I ran out into the desert, and then. The Empire found me. The stormtroopers—they assumed I was an orphan, stuffed me in a ship with a bunch of other kids, and sent us to Derry, to train us.” 

“Derry,” says Bev, misery in the creases around her eyes. 

“Derry,” Eddie repeats. “It was...a planet, wasn’t it.” Bev nods.

“Not very big,” she says. “Filled with Empire recruits.” She lets out a short, dry laugh. “Abductees.” She tilts her head a little, the way she would when she was a kid, when she was thinking. It’s coming back to Eddie, in big ways and little ones. “It looked a little like Barins,” she says softly, thoughtfully. “The fields.” Eddie’s sent back to yellow summer fields, tramping through them when the commanders weren’t watching. 

“It did,” he says. They sit together, him and Bev. He says, “We loved each other. We were kids, and we were taken away from our families, and we were forced to fight for the Empire, but we—“ Eddie’s eyes are a little wet. He blinks, confused. “We had fun, huh.” Bev smiles, bittersweet.

“Yeah,” she says. Eddie thinks a little more.

“Bowers was there,” he says. “He—he was being trained, too. We fought with him. And—someone else. I don’t know.” 

“Do you remember Neibolt?” Bev asks. The dark hallway flashes in Eddie’s mind again.

“The space station,” he says. “We were brought there.”

“No,” says Bev, “Didn’t we...go?” It clicks for Eddie.

“We did,” he realizes aloud. “We were chasing It. Chasing It for Bill.”

“For Georgie,” says Bev.

“Georgie,” Eddie says in quiet awe. “I forgot about Georgie.” He thinks of the dark figure in the hall, in his dream. Pale face. Yellow eyes. Long strips of red drawn down his cheeks like dripping blood. 

“Eddie,” says Bev, and Eddie becomes aware of the rattling quality of his breath. He grabs Bev’s hand and squeezes it tightly, then looks up anxiously.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Of course it is,” she answers immediately, and for that, Eddie is grateful. He just tries to slow his breathing for a moment, holding Beverly’s pale hand.

“You know,” he says with some difficulty, “We weren’t always the closest in the group. The—Losers.” 

“We should have been,” says Bev. “We’ve got a lot in common. I should have talked to you more.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” replies Eddie. “We were still friends. Good friends. We all were. You just had a lot going on. You know, Bill, and—“

“—and you had Richie,” says Bev, smiling fondly. Eddie looks up at her, frowning.

“What does that mean?” he asks, a bit of snap in his tone. Bev looks up at him, her smile dropping for a moment; but sees something in his face that lights an amused sparkle in her eye. She smiles again. 

“Nothing, Eddie,” she says. “Nothing at all.” Eddie frowns at her, but he knows that whatever she means, she means well. He focuses on his breathing again, which is slowing down. 

“What’s scaring you?” asks Bev. “I mean, I know all of it must be, but—what brought it on?” Eddie sighs.

“It,” he says. “Even just thinking about It is—“ he shakes his head and squeezes Bev’s hand again. “It was just that, though,” he says quietly after a moment. “I mean, that’s what  _ scared _ me. You know, like, scared-shitless. But I’m—bothered. I’m upset. I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Just say what you’re thinking,” says Bev comfortingly. Eddie doesn’t know what he’s thinking. He’s just seeing: hot, desert sands, wind blowing, his mother, in the distance. Watching him. Not even running or yelling for him, just standing still with her shoulders sagged while her dress flaps in the wind. 

“I thought I’d only left my mother once,” Eddie says, “when I went to go live with my wife. My mom hated her. Didn’t think she’d keep me safe. Myra told me she was the only one who could. I knew my mom was dying. Myra wanted me to go with her. In the end, it wasn’t even really a choice. It made sense, and I just...went.” Eddie’s fist clenches around his knee. “I hated myself. I knew I would never do what I wanted, just let myself be led around for the rest of my life. I never…” Eddie sits back in the chair and looks up at the station ceiling. “I thought I was always scared,” he whispers, “but there was a me that ran away. I ran away, Bev.” He looks at her. “I ran away.” He opens up his hands and stares at them. “Even though I didn’t know where I was going, even though it wasn’t safe, I did it because I wanted to and because I  _ hated  _ my mother.” He looks at Bev and asks her in a pleading voice, “How? How could I do that? I didn’t even know you guys then!” Bev looks down for a moment, then grasps Eddie’s hand and squeezes it gently.

“You know I ran from my dad, too,” she says. Eddie nods. “When we got away, I ended up somewhere new, and I never went back home. I traveled the galaxy. I worked on a fashion line for a while. I met a man—Tom Rogan—and I married him. I knew that he was like my father, but I told myself that wasn’t why I was with him.” Beverly pauses. “I was lying to myself. He was exactly like my father.”

“I’m so sorry, Bev,” says Eddie quietly. “If I—if I ever see him, I’ll—“

“Then this ship flew overhead one day,” Bev continues, almost as if Eddie hadn’t interjected. “It was so high over us, me and Tom, and I realized all of a sudden how trapped I was. I had known, but I kept the knowledge deep within me. It all rushed to the surface with that ship. And I—“ Beverly inhales sharply. “I had—bruises, then, on my shoulder. And he grabbed me by the shoulder and ask me what I was looking at and I—I threw my ring onto the ground. I told him I was ending it.” Bev stares into the distance for a moment. “That wasn’t the end, but it was the beginning of the end. I walked into town a few days later and I saw that ship, the one I had seen flying overhead. It was the Silver.” She smiles fondly. “I walked up to the people around it with no knowledge of them—at least, that’s what I thought—and yet still they were so kind to me. More than that. I know what that feeling is now.” Bev looks into Eddie’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m rambling. But what I want to say is that we both had it in us to be brave. We were brave on our own. We didn’t need other people to tell us to be so, we just were. What we needed was other brave people. People who brought that out in us. We—the Losers—were a family because we were brave together. We took the name that people in the training yelled at us to make us hurt, because all we needed was each other. We were braver and better than they’d ever be.” 

Eddie’s eyes are a little wet. After a moment of silence from Beverly, he laughs a little and wipes his eyes with one hand. 

“I, uh. Wow.” He laughs again, disbelieving. “How are you so...like, together? Not falling to shit?” Beverly laughs this time, short and sweet.

“I’m not, Eddie,” she says. “Trust me. I’ve been working this shit out for years and I’m still not through all of it. I’ve just had a little more time to process.”

“But even the, you know, remembering that we all knew each other thing!” exclaims Eddie. “You’re, like, calm about it? Not falling apart? How are you not sobbing? I feel—I feel like crying. I think I need to cry. A lot. Holy Sith,” Eddie mutters, rubbing his face roughly with his hands. Beverly is quiet.

“I’ve had more of an opportunity to process that, too,” she says after a moment. Eddie stops rubbing his face, looks up. 

“How?” he asks. “I told you all at the same time.” Bev seems to be searching for words, grimacing.

“I haven’t—well. I haven’t had more time. But for years, I’ve had these awful nightmares. They would wake me up in the middle of the night, and at first, I couldn’t remember them. When I started living on the Silver, though, I could remember them after I woke up. The images didn’t make any sense, but—“ she smiles a little cynically. “I’ve had enough trauma to know that something terrible had happened to me, probably when I was younger. So this makes sense. And I’m still—“ she sighs and runs her hand through her hair, glances back at the exit of the cockpit. “Terrified. Sad.  _ Angry. _ But I wanted to see if you were okay. Everyone’s having a hard time right now, but at least they’re together. You needed someone.” Bev’s voice is calm and comforting. She’d always been like an older sister, Eddie thinks; willing to get into trouble, but also taking care of everyone. Ben, he realizes, is alone in the main hold. But maybe that’s a problem for later. Eddie gives Bev a grateful look.

“Thanks,” he says, a bit awkwardly, but genuinely nonetheless. Bev smiles at him and says,

“Of course.” There’s a quiet moment in the cockpit, where the two are just in their thoughts and feelings. Eddie looks at his reflection in the cockpit window.

“I feel bad,” he says. “I sprung that on everyone, and now they’re all fucked up. Understandably. I mean, I know realistically I couldn’t have kept it to myself, but there must have been something different I could have done, right? I just feel like I keep messing up.” Bev shakes her head.

“You did the right thing,” she says. “The only thing you can do now is be there for them. Us.” 

“I don’t...I don’t know if I can be that person for someone else,” says Eddie. He doesn’t really want to say it, but at the same time, he needs to. It feels like the words are vomited out of him, or pulled from his throat, dripping with saliva as he coughs and chokes. “Brave. I was, like you said, but. I don’t even know if I can anymore.”

“But you’re here,” says Beverly emphatically. “You’re here and you said what you thought and you’re doing what you think is right.” Eddie is silent. Bev looks at him for a moment, then says, “I think you should talk to Richie.” Eddie’s head whips up.

“What?” he asks. “Why? Is he mad at me?” Beverly laughs softly and shakes her head. 

“Sorry,” she says. “Maybe I should have said it differently. I think Richie would really like it if he could talk to you.” Eddie’s brow furrows.

“Why?” he asks. Bev gives him an amused, yet kind smile. 

“I just think you should,” she says. Eddie nods at the floor, cheeks a little flushed.

“Do you know where he is?” he asks. Bev turns in her seat, looks out the hallway. 

“I think by the back windows,” she says. “He was with Stan the last time I checked, but I bet he’s there by himself, now.” Eddie nods again.

“Thanks, Bev,” he says. “Really. Thank you.” Beverly smiles. 

“Thank  _ you _ , Eddie,” she replies. “Now go talk to him.” Eddie smiles back, his grin a little wobbly, then stands up from his chair. He takes a fortifying breath, stares down the hallway, and makes his way out of the cockpit. 

Down the hall and round the corner, the long, cylindrical lights passing over Eddie’s body every few strides. 

He comes to the beginning of that long hallway where he and Richie had looked down at Tatooine on his first day. Richie stands at the other end of it. His hands are in his jacket pockets, his shoulders sagging. He’s looking out the window at the repair droids who bubble past the ship without a second thought. He leans his head forward and slowly taps it against the glass. 

A lanky boy stands in Eddie’s memory. His stormtrooper uniform doesn’t fit him, and most of his body is not covered by white armor but the black of his underclothes. He throws a stone, which skips across the creek and splashes into the water far away. He sighs, half-heartedly holding his helmet in one hand. 

Eddie is walking towards Richie before he even realizes it, his shoes stepping softly along the hallway floor. He stops beside Richie, close enough to stretch and arm out and touch, but Eddie doesn’t. He never does. He looks out the window instead. Sparks fly as a tall, skinny droid with a bobbley head and a large, glassy optic welds a piece of metal onto a ship. 

“Hey, Eddie,” Richie says. Eddie looks at him. Richie’s forehead is pressed to the pane of glass, and his eyes are not looking down but forward, out the window. He straightens up and continues to stare out the window. “Sorry you had to see me hurl.” 

“Oh. Uh. It’s fine.” Eddie looks back out the window. “Um. How’s Stan?”

“He’s okay,” says Richie absently. “Vomited a coupla times. Just needed someone there with him.” Eddie nods awkwardly. He wishes they were arguing, or joking. He wishes he knew what to say. He wishes he could put into words what he’s feeling, but instead he watches a small repair droid walk up to the one that’s welding and smack them on the head. “I, uh, I wanted to thank you for helping me. When I was, uh, panicking.” Richie nods.

“‘course, Eds,” he says absently, his mouth set in a tired line. “I’ll always help you out.”

“I, uh. I also wanted to see if you were okay,” Eddie continues. Richie laughs, short and sharp.

“I’m not,” he replies, “but thanks for checking in.” Then he rubs the bridge of his nose and says, “Jeez. Sorry, I—I’m just being a jerk. I’m fine.” 

“No, I’m sorry,” says Eddie. “I should have found a better way to tell you.” Richie shakes his head.

“No, I’m glad you did. It just sucks, man. That’s not your fault.” Eddie frowns a little; in the window, the skinny droid beeps angrily at the shorter droid. 

“I don’t know,” says Eddie. “I just could have said it differently. I didn’t mean to hurt you. All.” 

“Eddie.” Richie turns to Eddie, looking him in the eye. “Dude. It’s not your fault. Can we not have a fight about who’s fault it is?”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, and almost says sorry, but stops himself.

“Look,” Richie continues, “This all sucks, but I’m glad it came from you. I’m glad we’re all here together.” Despite the topic of conversation, Eddie’s chest warms.

He says, “Me too, Richie,” and the words are far too small to encompass what he’s really saying. What is he really saying? The shorter droid throws up its arms in frustration and walks in tight little circles, while the taller droid lets out robotic giggles. Richie and Eddie watch the argument for a moment, the shorter droid now stamping its feet and bubbling furiously at the taller droid, who giggles so hard it leans back. “What are we going to do about him?” Eddie asks softly. Richie stares for a moment, then rubs his eyes under his glasses and takes them off, staring through them.

“I don’t know,” he says. He pulls the end of his white shirt from his belt and rubs at the clouded lens of his glasses. “I don’t know.” 

“Mike will,” Eddie says after a moment. “And Bill. They’ll know what to do. They always did.”

“Fuck them,” says Richie suddenly. There’s a sharpness in his voice that startles Eddie. Richie rubs at his glasses vigorously. “Fuck them and their hero complexes. We don’t owe that planet a thing.” Eddie watches Richie for a moment.

“...what about all the people?” he asks. He thinks maybe he should be scared of Richie, the intensity of his anger and where it might lead him. But he knows Richie, and he knows his emotions, too. He probably knows Richie better than anyone he’s ever known his entire life. 

“What do you mean?”

“You know, all these people, throughout the galaxy—they’re all suffering because of the Empire. If we’ve got a chance, shouldn’t we help them out?” Richie gives him a tired, incredulous look.

“You don’t want to do that, though,” he says. 

“I—“ Eddie splutters for a minute, trying to work up the anger to defend himself. He’s got none. He sighs and throws his hands up, looks out the window again. “Bill will want to go,” he says after a moment. Richie looks at him, then back out the window. 

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “And don’t get me wrong, he deserves that. But it doesn’t mean that  _ we—“  _ He stops. Eddie knows Richie is remembering the same fight Eddie is, where the Losers fought in the dorms, and Bill punched Richie in the face. Those horrible days when the group wouldn’t speak. During that time, Eddie’s days slowly returned to the uninterrupted terror and hate it had been before he had met the Losers. And a capital L loser just by himself—that’s just sad. Richie shakes his head. “We deserve to be able to do what we want.” They look out the window for a moment. The droids have picked up their respective tools and begun to work on the ship separately. 

“What do you want?” asks Eddie. Richie looks up and away, shrugs.

“I mean, not this,” he says to the window. “Not to have to fight that motherfucker again.” He turns to Eddie suddenly, eyes sparkling. “We should go off together,” he says, his mouth spreading into a wide, earnest grin. “We should go off and live together, just like we always said.” Again, Eddie is hit with memories: gangly, armor-wearing Richie, hopping on stones in the creek. His helmet is removed and he’s talking to Eddie, who focuses nervously on Richie’s feet. 

“We’ll get a ship together, Eds!” calls Richie’s high, earnest voice. “I’ll be the daring captain, flying through space, and you’ll be the housewife I come home to after my long journeys.” His arms pinwheel suddenly and he says “Whoa!” as he balances precariously on one skinny leg. 

“Richie!” yells Eddie, abandoning his stones and splashing through the creek water, grabbing Richie and holding him steady. “Be careful,” he says harshly. “Dumbass. You’re gonna crack your head open.” Richie grins a toothy grin. 

“Not if you’re around, Eds,” he replies cheerfully. “That’s why you’re the housewife.”

“I’m not the fucking housewife!” Eddie shrieks, and Richie laughs loudly as Eddie kicks up water at him. 

“Fine,” floats Richie’s voice faintly as Eddie comes back to himself. “Second-in-command.” Adult Richie grins with youthful happiness sparking in his eyes.

“Housewife, remember?” Eddie rolls his eyes and snorts.

“Alright, what, you’re gonna come live on Alderaan with me?” he asks. He had always ended up entertaining Richie’s crazy ideas—later, when his mother tearfully asked him why, or even when he asked himself, the only answer he could come up was simply that it was Richie, and it was fun. Richie shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says dismissively. “I was thinking more like, we start our own bounty hunting crew.” He spreads his arms wide, dramatic. “You and me and all of space.” 

“Yay, endless vacuum,” Eddie says drily.

“Oh, what, you want me to be romantic about it?” Richie affects a dreamy voice. “The paradise planets…the thousands of stars...a ship made for two…” 

“Shut up!” Eddie manages through snorts, covering his mouth in an attempt to hide his smile. 

“No empire can keep them apart!” Richie declares. Eddie laughs into his hand, pressing the laughs into his palm, and Richie smiles, pleased; his eyes are bright. They look at each other for a moment; then Eddie flushes and looks back at the window, feeling the slightest bit awkward. He’s mostly pleased, though. Through the window, the droids have started fighting again; the taller droid keeps painting in the shorter droid’s area, and letting out chittering little laughs with each of the shorter droid’s little electronic huffs. 

“I’m not kidding, Eds,” says Richie. “Nobody is stopping us. We’re not trapped. We can do whatever we want.” Eddie looks up at Richie; his face is lit by soft, pale light as he looks down at Eddie. His eyes are filled with an emotion Eddie can’t quite place—it looks a little like hope and sadness swirled together. “So shouldn’t we?” he asks softly. And Eddie thinks.

He thinks about Beverly leaving her husband, about running from her dad and getting trapped by the Empire, almost the same way he himself had been trapped. He thinks about his mother, yelling after him through the desert wind. He thinks about Myra’s face and the ring he left somewhere on Tatooine. He thinks about the fear he felt when he heard her voice and thought,  _ Mommy came back. _ He thinks about how nice it would be to finally rest on Alderaan. 

And when he starts thinking about Alderaan, he starts thinking about Richie. How much the crew needed him in that fight with the Bowers. How they look to him for joy, even if the joy only last a second. He thinks about how young Richie, who was as scared and cynical as adult Richie is now, was still brave in the end—still fought It with the rest of them. More than that. Eddie doesn’t quite remember what Richie did, but he knows that Richie did something important, and brave. He remembers the way Richie yelled at It, even if he doesn’t remember the words. The way he threw his scrawny body into the fight without a second thought, in the end. And now, Richie is a bounty hunter who fights stormtroopers and rides in a ship every day, and makes Eddie feel so...safe. 

There’s a feeling hidden in Eddie’s chest when he thinks and remembers, and he doesn’t want to uncover it, not quite yet. He wants to take Richie up on his offer so badly—every ounce of him is stuck in terrified shock at the prospect of fighting It again, and the idea of running away with Richie is nicer than he’d ever admit out loud. But after—what, 27 years?—he’s finally found his friends again, possibly the only real friends he’s ever had. He needs them, and they need Richie. And. Well. He needs Richie, too.

“I don’t want to go anywhere without you,” Eddie says. It’s more honest than he meant, but hey, hasn’t confession always been good for the soul? “I think we should stay together,” continues Eddie, “because we’re a family. We’re Losers.”

After a moment, Richie says slowly, “And Losers stick together.” 

“All of us do. All the Losers. And you, and me. I want to stay with you.” Richie’s eyes are deep brown, and heavy with a pain Eddie doesn’t quite understand—but he smiles. 

“I want to stay with you too, Eddie,” he says. 

“The Losers need everybody,” says Eddie firmly. His desire to communicate this to Richie is suddenly desperate, all-consuming. “We need each other. We need you.” Richie leans down a little, looks him in the eye.

“And you.” He says this with equal strength in his voice to Eddie’s. After a moment, Eddie says, 

“Yeah. Of course.” And Eddie doesn’t quite believe that last part. He hasn’t been with the rest of the Losers for as long as they have. He’s not a bounty hunter, or a pilot—he isn’t even really a mechanic. But he knows that he wants to be with the Losers, at least, and if this is what will convince Richie to stay, and—help Bill, help the world—then that’s what he’ll say. Even if it’s not all the way true. 

Richie looks to the side again and runs his hand through his hair. 

“Jeez, Eddie,” he says, and he turns back to Eddie and grins. “You little hardass. You never let me get away with anything.” 

“You know that’s not true,” Eddie replies with a grin of his own. Richie lets out a little laugh and looks down at his feet, still grinning. Eddie, for his part, feels relieved—and pleased. The fear of It—whatever it is, for Eddie can’t even really remember—still hangs over his head, but he feels like he can at least face It now, with Richie by his side. 

Then the intercom crackles to life.

“Richie and Eddie,” says Bill’s voice over the intercom. He’s speaking slower than normal—it sounds the way it did when he was a kid, and focusing on not stuttering. “Y-you guys should come to the main hold. There’s s-something we gotta tell you.” Then the intercom clicks off, and the two look at each other.

“It can’t be worse than what we already know, right?” Richie says with a nervous grin. Eddie laughs, high and strange.

“Yeah,” he says. “Of course not.” He wants to ask,  _ but if it is, you’ll still stay, right?  _ The question rests heavy on his tongue, and he’s too much of a coward to ask. He’s already gotten a lot out of Richie, anyway. Richie gestures down the hallway awkwardly.

“Shall we?” he says, and Eddie nods.

The two make their way to the main hold.

When they arrive, the rest of the Losers are there, in slightly different positions than when Eddie had left. Ben and Beverly are sitting next to each other on the couch—not too closely, but not very far, either. Stan is back in his usual chair, looking a little paler than usual, but nonetheless okay. Wire-rimmed reading glasses rest on his nose; he gives a tired smile to Richie when Richie enters. Bill is over by the engineering station, sitting on a stool and watching Mike pace down the length of the hold. Mike’s head turns to Richie and Eddie as soon as they enter.

“You’re back,” he says, relieved. “Eddie, you’re okay? Richie?”

“We’re fine,” replies Eddie, feeling Richie nodding behind him. “Is something wrong? Did you remember something about...about It?” 

“Yes,” says Mike firmly, and Eddie can hear in his voice that he’s already getting into a rhythm. “We have a lot to talk about. I think—I think I’m remembering a lot, and I think I know what we need to do. I wanted all of us to be here, because I don’t want to start anything without you. And, obviously, I don’t want to assume that you’re all automatically in,” he adds. Bev glances at Richie, then says,

“It seems like we don’t really know the full story. Do you know, Mike?” Mike shakes his head.

“I don’t know everything, but for some reason I’m remembering quicker than you all. Either way, I’m ready to tell you what I know. It’s a lot to take in, so if you need to—“

“We’re ready, Mikey,” Bill interrupts. Mike looks at him, a bit surprised; Bill’s arms are crossed and his face is set determinedly. Bev nods from the couch.

“It’ll be better if you just do it now,” she says. Mike looks at the Losers, nodding to himself, and lets out a grounding sigh. 

“Alright. Okay. So, you all know, except maybe Eddie, that I read a lot on—“

“Eddie.” Everyone turns to the back of the room. Stan is looking at his hologram, a quietly horrified expression frozen on his face. 

“What?” asks Eddie after a moment, his heart rising in his throat. “Is it It? Did you remember something?” Stan shakes his head, eyes stuck on the screen.

“You should look at this,” he says finally, turning the screen around and looking up at him. His eyes are pained. Eddie looks at him questioningly, then leans down to look at the screen. The hold buzzes with heavy silence as Eddie reads, then reads again, then reads again.

Finally, Ben asks, “Is everything okay, Eddie?” Eddie straightens up slowly, finds himself looking at Richie. 

“Alderaan,” he croaks. “The Empire got Alderaan.” 

“They c-conquered it?” Bill asks after a moment. “That’s not possible. Alderaan’s a stronghold. We h-hadn’t even heard of an Empire inv-v—invasion yet.” Eddie shakes his head, swallows. He can’t get the words out, stuck as they are in the hollow of his throat. Stan abruptly takes off his reading glasses and rubs his eyes.

“They didn’t conquer it,” he says after a moment. “They  _ destroyed _ it. The Empire blew up Alderaan. There’s nothing left.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/mia__zaki) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/lionleonora) !


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